


Fealty

by demon_faith



Series: Love and Loyalty [1]
Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: Drama, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-16
Updated: 2010-07-16
Packaged: 2017-10-10 14:25:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 22,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/100750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demon_faith/pseuds/demon_faith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>A faithful and good servant is a real godsend; but truly 't is a rare bird in the land</em>  - Martin Luther</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I made the fatal mistake of telling [](http://openskies.livejournal.com/profile)[**openskies**](http://openskies.livejournal.com/) that I was being harassed by a plot bunny. She then made me write on pain of capslock. ;)
> 
> With special thanks to the other members of The Coven of Camelot, without whom this wouldn't have been possible.
> 
> Please note: this fic was written and posted during Merlin Season 1. A number of elements and underlying assumptions have now been completely Jossed. Thank you for your understanding.

  
Even the horse was bored. Merlin patted his nose gently but the haughty animal shook him off and trotted a bit faster.

"How much longer?"

"We're staying out here until I catch that blasted deer."

Arthur shot him a look and Merlin sighed under his breath. His prince was being particularly stubborn today – a glimpse at the sky told him that night was closing in and they'd have to hurry to reach the palace before sundown.

"Is it really that important?"

The horse stopped abruptly, almost causing Merlin to walk into the back of it. "Important? Merlin, that idiot Caradoc has already caught a prize stag today and left me looking like a fool. If we don't bring home an equal prize, I will be the laughing stock of the whole court!"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. I'm just…cold."

Merlin swept a hand through his wet hair and looked up; Arthur was giving him that strange look again. From anyone else, he would've called it concern but he never knew quite what to make of Arthur.

"Don't catch anything," he said distastefully. "I don't need you dripping on me."

"No, sire," Merlin said heavily, and Arthur nodded, a slight twist of his lips showing his amusement. One day, Merlin would work out exactly what was going on in that pretty blond head; one day, Hell would freeze over.

They walked a few more paces in silence. Merlin was seriously beginning to regret diverting the doe earlier, but she had her faun by her side and he didn't really want Arthur to shoot it.

"I'm not su-" The tip of an arrow came down to meet his cheek and he stopped. Arthur drew back the flint and quickly dismounted, pushing the bridle into Merlin's hands and creeping forward. It was strange to watch Arthur possessed by the hunt – it was almost like Merlin practicing magic, completely absorbed in the moment, bringing all his concentration to bear on one small thing.

Merlin wondered what it would be like to have that great concentration focussed on him.

He shivered and shook his head; he must be catching a cold. Squinting in the half-dark, he could just make out Arthur's cautious step into a clearing, where a stag stood in perfect profile.

Yet something was wrong with it – the curve of the antlers or the gloss of its hooves, because it just didn't sit well with Merlin. He was overwhelmed with a sense of dread and stepped forward, mouth open to shout a warning.

And then a man stabbed Arthur in the back.

He fell to his knees, before listing to the side, motionless. Merlin felt a wave of grief, sickness and fury wash over him and he reached out with both hands.

The shadow-clad figure went sailing across the clearing, hitting a tree and falling to the ground. Merlin wasted no more time with him, hurrying over to Arthur and pressing urgent fingers to his neck. Pulse.

His fingers picked out the hole in Arthur's tunic and they came away sticky with blood. Merlin swallowed down the bile in his throat. He had to get him home. Gaius would know what to do.

"I'm…I'm going to lift you up, okay? Just…keep still and I'll…I'll get us home. Ready? Okay."

Merlin lifted him up with shaking arms and manhandled him into the saddle; he fell forward on to the horse's neck. Merlin mounted behind him, pulling him back against his chest and urging the horse forward with his feet.

Maybe the animal sensed his panic, he didn't know, but he found himself hurtling through the forest, desperately holding on to Arthur and mumbling nonsense mixed with spell into his ears.

But he didn't wake, didn't even move, and Merlin found himself shutting his eyes, wishing it was all a dream and he could just wake up and not be responsible for the dwindling life of the man in his arms.

The city gates loomed ahead and he called out to the guards, who let him through, sounding their horns to warn the castle of his arrival. They arrived in a cloud of dust, a haze of courtiers already reaching out to them, taking Arthur from his numb hands and helping him dismount.

"He was stabbed…in the forest…a man with a dagger…please, he won't wake up…he won't…"

He felt Gaius grip his arm and drag him after Arthur's stretcher; he didn't know what he was doing with himself, just that he had to make it better – why wasn't the magic working? Why wouldn't Arthur open his eyes?

They laid him out in Gaius' room and he fell to his knees beside him, hand hovering over him as if he dare not touch.

"Tell me what happened. Exactly what happened."

"The stag looked wrong." He heard his voice saying the words, but his full attention was locked on Arthur's pale, still face. "And then he was stabbed in the back. It was a dagger – black blade, like onyx. He fell to the ground. I…dealt with the attacker. I brought him back. He won't wake up."

"Quick, you – turn him over. Remove his tunic. I must see this wound."

Merlin's hands leapt to his lord's head, sweat-damp hair in his hands, cold skin beneath. He turned his face to the side, watching his slightly-parted lips quiver with every breath.

"This is treacherous sorcery. Fetch the king – we must send out a search party for this assassin. Merlin, will you…"

A hand settled on his shoulder. "You just stay right here."

"Okay, Gaius," he said, and continued his vigil.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _A faithful and good servant is a real godsend; but truly 't is a rare bird in the land_ \- Martin Luther

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made the fatal mistake of telling [](http://openskies.livejournal.com/profile)[**openskies**](http://openskies.livejournal.com/) that I was being harassed by a plot bunny. She then made me write on pain of capslock. ;)

  
When she'd heard that Arthur had suffered a hunting accident, she had laughed and called him clumsy. Yet when Gwen stood at her doorway, flowers half-crushed in her fingers, she knew something was wrong.

"Prince Arthur won't wake up. They're trying everything but…he's just so still. I've tried to make Merlin come away but he won't listen to me…"

Morgana felt an odd flutter in her stomach at Gwen's words but it was the girl's face that made her take a step closer and close her hand over the shaking flowers.

"I will speak with him. Rest easy."

Gwen gave a small nod and broke away. Morgana moved unhurriedly towards Arthur's chamber – who knew what would await her there? Certainly not Uther. He was not a father any more than he was king.

She bit back her bile, nodding to the pair of guards as she stepped across the threshold. The room smelled strongly of healing balm and she saw Gaius hunched over a pestle and mortar, grinding herbs with a steady rhythmic motion.

And there was Merlin, staring at Arthur as he could will him awake with just his eyes. His lips moved soundlessly and she wondered if he was praying, no longer trusting in mortals to wake the prince from his slumber.

Finally, she looked at Arthur. His bare skin glistened with sweat and he shivered, bright spots of fever on his cheeks. The bandage over his back was thick with dried blood, and the red-pink stains spread over the blankets pulled up to his waist. This was the story told in Gwen's eyes, but she could not have believed it possible unless she had seen. For the arrogant, infuriating Arthur to be reduced to…this…

She looked away.

Gaius nodded to her as he stood, touching Merlin's shoulder and placing the pestle in his hands. He paused in his prayers, head bowed, running his fingers along the edge of the bowl. Morgana had never seen him so silent.

"Merlin, the Lady Morgana is here to see Arthur."

He turned to her and offered what could have been a smile, shifting along the wooden bench to allow her a seat. She took it gracefully, eyes skittering away from Arthur to the paste Merlin scooped up in his fingers.

"It just seems so…wrong."

His voice cracked on the words and Morgana touched his hand, unsure how else to convey her sorrow and her guilt. She had often wished the idiot boy would shut up, keep to his room, just die…

"Oh, come now, Merlin. Soon you won't be saying that. He'll be ordering you to mend his clothes and shine his boots in no time." She had affection for Arthur's manservant, how he had curbed his wilder impulses, taught him what it was to be kind…

Arthur had never changed for anyone.

And when she looked at Merlin's eyes, how they were faintly lined with red, how he looked as if he himself was dying, she realised what had been right in front of her face: they were lovers! Arthur and Merlin were lovers, and she had been played for a fool.

The boy passed his fingers through Arthur's unresisting lips, whispering a stream of babble to him as he administered the medicine. The line on Arthur's forehead started to ease, but his body remained wracked with fever. He looked so pale, so…vulnerable, and yet it wasn't hers to care. He was Merlin's now.

Merlin cleaned off his hands mechanically before drawing a bowl of water to his side. He swept a cloth over Arthur's back, his arms, his brow; but the prince was oblivious to his ministrations. It all seemed so desperately futile, these small gestures in this grand, stifling room. Morgana no longer knew why she had come there.

But Gwen had asked, and so she would try.

"Merlin…Gwen's worried for you."

"I'm fine," he said. She sensed Gaius' gaze and glanced at him; his face said that this was a battle that could not be won, could not even be entertained. Merlin was not leaving until Arthur got up from the bed…or was carried from it.

"Merlin-"

The door was torn open and Uther stormed through it, his countenance ugly. Merlin had started to his feet, his right hand spread in a strange gesture of defiance but he dropped it quickly to his side.

"Your majesty," Merlin said quickly, bowing his head, but Morgana saw the fear in his eyes. What was happening now?

"There was no assassin," Uther spat, his anger frothing over his words. "The clearing was bare save for my son's blood. The guards found this" - a dagger, blood-drenched, was thrown callously on the floor between them - "in your chamber."

"I didn't…I couldn't…"

Merlin stared at the dagger, frozen; Morgana looked into Uther's eyes and saw something terrifying. She had to stand between them.

"He's been by Arthur's side for days! He's been devoted-"

"Poisoning him!" Uther knocked the pestle from the table, spattering the bloodied dagger with green. "Undo your spell, sorcerer! Restore my son and I may yet spare you!"

"No, it wasn't me…he's…no…"

Gaius stepped forward, eyes panicked. "Your majesty, I swear-"

"You know nothing about this! The evidence is damning - RETURN MY SON!"

"I didn't do it," he whispered, but Uther could not hear him even if he had screamed it.

"Guards, take him away. If he won't release my son, his death may save him."

"You're making a mistake!" Morgana shouted, but Merlin was already being dragged away and Uther following. He had not even spared a glance for his son.

"My Lady, please remain with the prince. I…must attend to the king."

Gaius hurried after them and Morgana found herself turning to Arthur, hesitant. Could she call on Gwen- but, no, that would require leaving him, and the thought that he might…slip away, with no one near…

She resumed her seat by his side and reached tentatively for his hand.

"It's all right, Arthur. Merlin…Merlin's coming back for you. I know it."

~

Gaius allowed Uther some moments to compose himself, before persuading the guards to let him pass. The man had wrecked his study – papers were strewn over the floor, a vase smashed and a chair dismembered. He was clearly in his cups, the mead vessel rolling on its side, but Gaius had very little to lose.

"Sire, I must speak with you on behalf of Merlin."

Uther laughed mirthlessly and drained his goblet. "On behalf of Merlin? You wish to condone murderers now, Gaius?"

"Your son is not dead, sire," Gaius said quietly, and Uther paused a moment before pouring himself more mead. "And that is because of Merlin."

Uther slammed down the goblet. "Merlin! Merlin in a treacherous snake who seeks to destroy my heir – you saw the dagger! Maybe the sight of blood was too much for him, maybe he panicked – so he brings my son home and pretends to mourn him, when really he feeds the fever and keeps him sleeping, so that he may not reveal the truth!"

Gaius watched the man pace around the room, muttering to himself, enshrouded in anger. If Merlin, and Arthur, were to be saved, the king could have no part in it.

"Sire," he said and removed himself from the room.

~

It had been two days and no one had come to talk to him about Arthur. Merlin refused to consider what that meant.

True, he also hadn't been executed, which could only be a good thing. But even Gaius hadn't come to see him and that meant he was…busy.

When he closed his eyes, he saw Arthur lying on the bed, possessed by fever and wasting away. They had only been able to trickle water into his mouth and the lean muscled form had grown gaunt.

It was almost a week since it had happened. He'd been running the scene in his mind over and over again, what he could have done to prevent it. Failed to notice the arrow, shouted something stupid – but he was in tune with Arthur now, had somehow grown to know his habits, the nuances of his movement. It was only his sky blue eyes that remained elusive.

"Merlin?"

"Gwen!"

He shuffled to his feet, the chains holding him back, but he could see her well enough by torchlight: she had been crying. His stomach fell through the floor…no…no…

"Merlin, he's dying. You have to do something. He's...they're preparing the horses."

Uther was setting up the funeral carriage. He didn't think Arthur would survive.

Merlin felt the spark of electricity tingle at his fingertips; he knew what to do.

"Gwen, I need you to leave right now. Send everyone away from Arthur's room and wait in Morgana's quarters."

Her eyes widened. "What…what are you going to do?"

"I don't want you involved, Gwen. Please."

She hesitated, then nodded and scurried away. He closed her eyes, took a deep breath and counted slowly up to ten.

The locks clicked and the chains fell away, silently coiling on the floor. He approached the door – _click_ – and made his way into the main dungeon. One guard asleep, another with his dice mysteriously leaping into the darkness, and he was away, up the stairs and into the palace.

Destiny was with him that night, for he met no one and the hallways echoed with a hundred people holding their breath, waiting for their prince to pass on. He wouldn't allow it. He was Merlin, protector of the future-king – and maybe his best friend.

Arthur's room was abandoned by all but the sleeping heir. Merlin stood in the doorway, his breath caught in his throat.

The prince was lying on his back, arms crossed over his chest. He was dressed in his ceremonial robes, his coronet on the bench beside him. All fit for a funeral.

Merlin crept forward and touched the icy skin – his heart was still beating. There was still hope.

"I'm getting you out of here," he whispered, sitting Arthur up and lifting him over his shoulder. With painful slowness, he carried him through the castle, pausing for breath every few minutes and checking he was going the right way. They didn't have long before someone realised one or both of them was missing – he had to be quick.

Gaius was out on a visit, it seemed, so he laid Arthur on the healer's table and ran for his magic book. He'd been looking at these spells before they'd gone hunting, but he'd never dreamed he'd be using them like this.

After this, there was no turning back – the whole kingdom would know he was a sorcerer and Arthur would be forced to banish him, if not execute him outright. But it didn't matter, because he'd be alive to do it.

He found the spell and committed it to memory, turning it over and over in his mind, before climbing onto the bed, kneeling either side of Arthur's body and placing his palms on the pale and frozen cheeks.

The door crashed open and Gaius stumbled over the threshold. "Merlin, what are you doing?"

"Find the dagger! It's the only way to save him!"

The incantation flowed over his lips, and the world slowed to-


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _A faithful and good servant is a real godsend; but truly 't is a rare bird in the land_ \- Martin Luther

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made the fatal mistake of telling [](http://openskies.livejournal.com/profile)[**openskies**](http://openskies.livejournal.com/) that I was being harassed by a plot bunny. She then made me write on pain of capslock. ;)

  
Gaius stumbled forward, hand outstretched, hovering but not touching. He had never seen anything like this…

Merlin and Arthur were surrounded by what appeared to be ice, but the surface held an unnatural shimmer, warning him not to stray too close.

'Find the dagger' he had said; Merlin had bought them precious time, but at what cost? Could he hide them before-

Footsteps thundered down the hall and two guards appeared at his door. "Gaius, Merlin and the prince are…"

Gaius recovered himself quickly. "Fetch the king! This is a new treachery."

They nodded slowly, but only one departed, the other edging closer to observe. It was only then that Gaius realised the magic book lay open on the floor, flaunting its power for anyone to see. There was no time to conceal it – there could be no way out of this for Merlin now.

The guard was quicker than most and pointed at it in horror. "A book of magic!" He looked at Gaius then, before slowly drawing his sword. Gaius shot him a look.

"I would consider carefully, young man, what accusations you may wish to make."

The sword lowered but was not resheathed; Gaius sighed under his breath. Wasn't he always telling Merlin to think things through? Then again, what options remained for them? Arthur was all but dead, and Merlin facing execution – this was the act of a desperate man and Gaius could not, in all honesty, say he would not have done the same.

Uther flew into the room like man possessed, his wild eyes darting from the block of ice to Gaius to the book on the floor. "Now tell me I'm wrong, Gaius. I stayed his execution on your account and look where that has brought us."

Gaius knew he had to tread carefully if they were all to make it out of this alive. "Sire, I had no idea the boy was capable of magic! He always seemed so…stupid."

Uther nodded grimly, keeping his distance from the bed. "Cut them out."

The guards exchanged looks, and Gaius stepped forward. "I wouldn't advise that, your majesty. We do not yet know what the enchantment is."

"It is killing my son! CUT HIM OUT!" The irate king drew his sword.

Gaius held up placating hands. "And that may kill them both!"

For a moment, he thought Uther might strike him but he lowered his sword arm, looking old beyond his years. "Sire, perhaps we should consider other motives for these actions. The boy was clearly distressed about the prince's condition – freezing them both in this way may, in fact, prolong life."

"You don't know that," Uther said coldly, but there was a note of uncertainty in his voice. Gaius tried for one final push.

"If he meant to kill Arthur, sire, he had ample opportunity. Instead, he performed this enchantment." He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "There may still be time to save the prince."

Uther regarded him with narrowed eyes. "You have one day before I take a sword to it. You two – guard this room, and make sure no one hears of this. Do not disappoint me, Gaius." He glanced once more at the frozen pair, before marching out of the room.

Gaius let out a steady breath. "One of you fetch the Lady Morgana's handmaiden – I will require assistance."

They hesitated, but one nodded to him and left the room; Gaius did not notice them, his mind whirring with all the permutations and possibilities of the attack plan. He needed the dagger, but first he needed a suspect. And to find a suspect, he required spies.

He would not allow Merlin's sacrifice to be in vain – they would find the real assassin and expose the truth, then deal with the consequences. Right now, he had two charges to save.

~

The luncheon was a terrible affair of ceremony and tedium. Uther had secreted himself in his chambers, leaving her as the only member of the royal household capable of leading a formal banquet. Because despite the current turmoil in the castle, they still had guests, and guests must be entertained.

"And then – then – I took the eel through the head with a spear!" There was a roar from the men, cheering Caradoc's little anecdote as if it were the best tale they'd ever heard. Morgana resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"And so the village was saved?" she said politely, and Caradoc grinned. It was a smile reminiscent of Valiant – and, in some ways, of Arthur, the Arthur of before. She suppressed the twinge of pain in her heart, refusing to think about the man lying upstairs; she could not grieve yet.

Caradoc began another hunting story, and she noticed Gwen moving up the side of the hall; perhaps she had come to save her from these idiots. However, her face was solemn and Morgana held her breath, heart racing as the girl came closer.

"Tell me," she breathed, but Gwen frowned and then shook her head, coming to stand behind Morgana's chair.

"Gaius sent me," she whispered, as Morgana laughed at some ridiculous joke about peat workers. "It turns out that…Merlin is a sorcerer."

She couldn't bring herself to be surprised; she's been in the sewer when the flames had mysteriously flared into the Afanc, and it explained how Merlin always completed the ridiculous tasks Arthur requested of him.

"He has…frozen Arthur in Gaius' rooms." Morgana reined in her surprise; that bore further investigation. "We need to…well, we need to find the dagger. Merlin said it was black, and then-"

Morgana leaned forward, smiling despite herself. "Caradoc, that's a fine hunting knife you carry."

He paused for a moment, and Morgana caught the fear in his eyes. "A gift from my father. Now, the fox-"

"May I see it? The silverwork resembles that of one of my trinkets."

She had him – he could not refuse a lady's request without drawing attention to himself. With a forced smile, he drew the blade and passed it down the table. She took it in her hands – it was ice cold, the jet black blade reflecting no light and the silver refusing to shine.

A flash – _ice cracking – magic, snap – blue eyes open – the block, the crown – alone, together – blood and water – fainting, fading – victory_ – and she came back to herself, with Gwen's hand on her shoulder. She pretended to wipe a tear from her eye.

"I'm sorry. It reminded me…of my father, for a moment there."

With reluctance, she passed it back – she could not accuse him of wielding a magic blade without proof, and such scandal would not help Arthur or Merlin. Caradoc resumed his banal story and Morgana lapsed into deep thought. What to do…

"I will follow him," Gwen said and Morgana smiled. It was the obvious solution: no doubt Caradoc would attempt to get rid of the dagger, and they would be there when he did.

"Very well," she murmured, and Gwen moved away from the chair, leaving Morgana to glare poison at Caradoc behind a sweet smile.

~

Gwen was at her wit's end. Night was closing and Caradoc hadn't left his chambers. Maybe he wasn't going to dispose of the knife at all, keeping it close instead; however, it was incriminating – black blades were exceptionally rare, but suspicion wasn't enough to save Arthur.

She would have to take matters into her own hands.

With a nod to his guard, she knocked on the door and waited.

"Enter!"

Gwen slipped into the room, curtsied and kept her head bowed. "My lord, I'm here to renew the fire."

"Very well – carry on."

It was not difficult but it took time, and that gave her opportunity to observe the man and his surroundings. He didn't have a manservant and his room was a mess, but his hunting gear was carefully arranged by the window.

She managed a few glimpses of him as he ate an apple – he did look a bit worried, and he seemed to have removed the dagger. So, where was it?

The empty sheath was thrown next to the hunting gear. He had moved the dagger somewhere safe, or managed to throw it away. How were they going to help Arthur now?

"And I need my curtains pulled – the windows let in a draft."

"My lord," she said, standing quickly and hurrying towards the window. Maybe, if she could look at the sheath, she might learn something. She was just wondering how to do it, when she glanced out of the window and spotted a funny shadow in the gutter. Her heart leapt to her throat – it was the dagger!

A knock at the door made her start and she reluctantly closed the curtains before crossing to the doorway. "Yes?"

"The lady Morgana requests Prince Caradoc's presence for high tea."

He was up in an instance, straightening his tunic and grinning like a lunatic. "And I shall be with her directly."

Without a second thought, he was gone, leaving Gwen alone in the room. Shutting the door carefully, she strode to the window and poked her head through the curtains, contemplating the ledge and the gutter adorning its edge. There was nothing for it – she'd have to climb.

She opened the window and carefully lowered herself from the sill. It was a high room and the west wind was blowing hard and strong. She crouched low on the ledge, using her hands to guide her forward and keep her balance, but soon she had the dagger in her grasp.

The cold stone sucked all the warmth from her hand, but she held onto it, scuttling back towards the window and pulling herself up into the room. She closed the window and straightened the curtains, securing the dagger in the folds of her skirt.

The door opened.

"Forgot my -"

Caradoc paused, staring at her as his lips formed an uneasy line. Gwen looked down – her dress was damp and streaked with grime.

She looked up and held her chin up defiantly. "I know what you've done, and so does the lady Morgana. I'd run if I were you."

He paled then and she knew she had won. Caradoc turned and fled, his footsteps echoing along the corridor. Gwen smiled to herself and started to run, knowing that she could save them now, that it wouldn't be too late.

Merlin would know what to do.

~

When the door opened, Gaius knew they were lost. Uther regarded the room carefully, his sword drawn, before approaching the bed.

"I think you've had long enough, Gaius."

"Sire, please-"

The door banged open and he was greeted with Gwen's flushed, smiling face. "I have it!"

Then she saw Uther and her smile faded, as she curtsied and drew closer, holding out the blade. It was indeed black as night, but before Gaius could examine it, Uther had seized it from her hands.

"But this is Caradoc's blade! How did you come by this?"

"Sire…" She looked troubled, but held her nerve. "Prince Caradoc…confessed, but then he ran. I retrieved the dagger from his room and brought it straight here."

Uther's expression turned ugly, as he slammed the dagger down on the table and raised his sword.

"Sire, no!"

The sword shattered, sending shards of hot metal flying through the room. In the confusion, Gaius seized his moment and, without thought, laid his hand on the ice.

"Merlin, come back."

The ice was warm and it started to melt under his hand; as he drew back, the whole block shimmered, cracks spread from his handprint, throughout the ice until one reached the top of Merlin's head.

Suddenly, the whole thing vanished and Merlin started, head rearing up to look at Gaius. "Did you find it?"

But Uther had regained his senses and now held the dagger in his hands, regarding Merlin shrewdly. "And why should I trust you, warlock?"

"Sire, there isn't time!" Merlin shouted impatiently, shakily climbing off the bed. "If I don't break the spell, Arthur will die. Please, I need the dagger."

There was a long moment of silence before Uther held out the knife. Merlin snatched it away and held it in both hands, closing his eyes. With a bright flash of light, the dagger broke apart in his hands, and then turned to fine dust.

Arthur gasped.

Gaius watched Merlin's face as he turned – joy and relief and…something else, quickly hidden but undeniably there. "Arthur?"

The prince's eyes opened and he frowned. "Merlin?" he rasped. "What happened?"

"You were stabbed with a cursed dagger, but it's all right now. It's all right."

"Guards, arrest the sorcerer."

Merlin was pulled back by the two strong men, who started dragging him towards the door.

"Father…what are you doing?" Arthur, the fool, was trying to rise, struggling against a body that refused to obey his commands. Gaius supported him as he wavered, desperately trying to pursue the guards. "What's happening?"

Uther regarded him imperiously, only a faint shadow of paternal feeling in his eyes. "Magic is banned in this kingdom, whatever its intention. You know the law."

"Father…I don't understand."

Gaius could only watch as Merlin was taken away and an exhausted, confused prince slumped against him, calling for a father who would not listen.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _A faithful and good servant is a real godsend; but truly 't is a rare bird in the land_ \- Martin Luther

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made the fatal mistake of telling [](http://openskies.livejournal.com/profile)[**openskies**](http://openskies.livejournal.com/) that I was being harassed by a plot bunny. She then made me write on pain of capslock. ;) But she also made me a stunning banner and formed my personal cheering section, so all is forgiven. *hugs*

  
Arthur lay on his back, staring at the ceiling and listening to the voices from next door. He felt strangely detached, almost numb, but Gaius said that was just the tincture.

"I want to see my son."

"Sire, the prince is sleeping. He needs his rest."

"He was sleeping for a week!"

"An enchanted sleep is not the same as a natural slumber, sire. I'm afraid that any disturbance will delay his recovery."

"Very well, Gaius, play your games. Just tell him this: the execution is in two days, at dawn. His presence is required."

Fear and rage gripped him and he staggered to his feet, swaying violently as he lurched towards the door. It opened in front of him and Gaius regarded him with exasperation, offering his arm. Arthur ignored it, stumbling towards the workroom, before his legs gave way and he ended up on the floor. Again.

This time, Gaius simply brought a blanket and tucked it round his shoulders, leaving him a pillow to recline on before continuing to make the soup. At least, he supposed, it was less far to fall.

"I have to save him," he said wearily, his mind struggling to capture his thoughts. "I can't let him die."

"No one is going to die," Gaius said firmly, adding a handful of sliced carrot to the pan. "And Merlin won't be happy if he knows I've let you injure yourself further."

Merlin. When he'd opened his eyes, he'd seen Merlin – naked affection and relief pouring from his eyes, the start of a grin playing on his lips. And it hadn't mattered that he'd felt like death, that his back was burning a hole through him, because Merlin was there and he'd never let anything bad happen.

"I have to save him," he repeated, curling up on the floor and wondering what his "friends" would say now.

"And tell him he's been evicted from his room, no doubt."

Much to his father's ire, Arthur had refused to leave Gaius' quarters, holing himself up in Merlin's room and refusing to speak to the king. Gaius had told him he couldn't hide forever, but he didn't see why he couldn't give it a good try.

No one would let him see Merlin. He had feared his father was keeping him in isolation but Gwen had been to see him twice and said he looked well. However, she'd also seemed to believe that he would be escaping any hour now and yet he hadn't come for him. Merlin had never understood the concept of being Arthur's servant.

"Why did he do it?"

Gaius sighed. "He thought it was the best chance of saving your life, sire. And…I think he was probably right."

Arthur pulled the blankets closer, shivering. "But now he's going to die. And it's my fault."

A warm hand touched his shoulder. "Merlin wouldn't want you to despair. Here – the soup will revive you."

Arthur sat up slowly, his head spinning in lazy circles as he took the proffered bowl, with a mumbled 'thank you'. His hands were shaking as he sipped the broth – curse his weakness! He should be in the dungeons, fighting his way to Merlin and freeing him. That's what a true prince would do.

Instead, he was hiding from his father in the rooms of the court physician, barely able to hold a soup bowl. It was pathetic.

"Arthur?"

And now Morgana was here to mock him. Great. "Don't you have something better to do?"

He didn't look up as she approached him, aware that she was kneeling on the floor. "Arthur, are you all right?"

"Of course I'm not all right!" he snapped, the soup slopping over the sides of the bowl. "Merlin's about to die because of me, and I can't…I can't even see him!"

He felt the bowl leave his hands, and then Morgana touched his cheek. "We'll find a way," she said.

~

There were two guards outside the cell twenty-four hours a day. The chains seemed to have been enchanted in some way – probably from the pre-ban days – and wouldn't respond to his commands. Not that he was trying particularly hard: Arthur was alive. His job was done.

Gwen said Arthur was doing well, but had refused to see his father. That didn't bode well for the future – if Arthur was to become this great king, he probably had to keep in with Uther. He wouldn't let Arthur jeopardise his destiny over him.

There was the sound of voices just beyond the archway and Merlin sat up, listening. It wasn't time for dinner, so what was going on? He could just make out Morgana and a hooded figure beside her, leaning heavily on her arm. His heart quickened in his chest – he'd know him anywhere.

"Merlin's mother wishes to bid him farewell. You can't deny her that!"

The guards grudgingly let them pass and Merlin stood, shuffling as far forward as the chains would allow. Morgana led the figure to the cell door, where a thin hand emerged from the cloak to grip one of the bars.

"Merlin."

"Arthur," he breathed, watching as the hood fell back and his prince greeted him.

He looked too pale, his cheek bones too prominent, but he was still Arthur, still capable of silencing a room with his smile.

"I'm…I'm not going to let him do this."

"Don't do anything stupid!" Merlin hissed, leaning as close to Arthur as he could. "I'm not worth it – you know that."

"Of course you're worth it!" There was a flash of anger in Arthur's eyes. "You saved me – again. I can't let you die."

"This isn't about me." He was desperate now – Arthur's future was at stake. "You have to do great things. You can't risk it all for me."

"So, I should stand by and let him kill you? Is that what you're saying?"

Merlin tried to smile. "Well, I'm not really looking forward to it. Just…think it through."

Arthur's lips quirked. "Are you saying I'm impulsive?"

Merlin sighed. "I'm saying you're…you. Please, don't do anything rash."

Arthur closed his eyes, looking weary and fragile. Merlin hated the sight of it more than anything, wished he could reach out and touch him, comfort him. He hated Uther – he couldn't even give Arthur the service he deserved.

"I'm making no promises," he whispered and Merlin's heart stopped. He was planning something – the stupid fool was going to do something epically heroic and phenomenally stupid.

"Arthur, please-"

"I know – think it through." Arthur smiled and pushed his hand through the bars, reaching out. Merlin mirrored the action, and though they remained apart, he felt better, rejuvenated. It would be all right.

"Time's up!" came the guard's shout, and Arthur replaced his hood, slowly withdrawing his hand and leaning on Morgana. Merlin watched him go, the ache in his heart easing – his prince was alive, and he wasn't giving up on him.

All he had to do was wait.

~

The chain mail was awkward and his legs shook under the weight.

"Focus, focus," he whispered to himself, trembling hands reaching for his breastplate. He'd need full armour if he had any hope of reaching Merlin alive.

"Arthur, what are you doing?"

"Getting ready," he said, gritting his teeth and trying to fasten the buckles. Morgana tried to help but he shook her off.

"I thought Merlin said-"

"Think things through, I know. And I've thought and now I'm doing."

"You're not well enough, Arthur."

"I'm fine. Merlin needs me."

He picked up his sword, overbalanced and fell to his knees. Breathing harshly, he tried to rise but the weight of his armour forced him down. He bowed his head, determined to prevent his eyes from leaking, betraying his weakness. He had to get to Merlin. He had to.

"What's going on here? Oh, Arthur, what are you doing now?"

"I need to get to Merlin," he bit out, refusing to look at either of them. He didn't want to see their pity.

"In this condition, you couldn't fight a kitten."

"I have a sword!" he protested, but it sounded stupid even to him.

"Arthur, you need to rest." Morgana sounded worried. He must look awful.

"Yes, let's get you back to bed. You have…an early start tomorrow."

As if he could forget. Allowing them to take his hands, he struggled to his feet, as they half-carried him back to Merlin's room. The heavy armour was removed and he was left in his underclothes, miserably huddled beneath the blankets.

He had twelve hours to think of a plan.

~

Gaius woke him at just gone four, porridge in hand. He managed about a third of the bowl before he felt sick and then washed himself with painful slowness. At least his father wouldn't start without him – he wanted him to see Merlin suffer, to realise what happened to sorcerers in this kingdom. Even if he was his servant, his friend, his…something else entirely.

He refused his ceremonial garments, stealing Merlin's clothes instead; they hung off him, reminding him of his weakened body, but he couldn't think like that. He requested that Gaius bring him a stick, so that he wouldn't need to lean on anyone. Gaius probably thought him proud, but he knew the real reason: he couldn't drag anyone else into this. It was his burden to bear.

He used the same cloak as he'd worn to visit Merlin, to keep out the cold that never left his bones. Gwen gave him a look that plainly said he looked more like a pauper than a prince, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Uther would finally have the son he deserved.

They made their way in a slow huddle, the roar of the crowd already building. So many people had turned out to see Merlin die.

Gaius started to lead him towards the dais, but he broke away, stick clattering on the flagstones. It wasn't much further now – he could see Merlin, kneeling on the floor like a slave, head resting on the block with his eyes closed in defeat. How dare they do that to him!

A hush fell over the crowd, as he limped across the courtyard. Almost there. Merlin finally opened his eyes, a look of surprise on his face. Arthur wanted to reassure him with a smile but he was desperately trying not to pass out.

He staggered up to the block, sank to his knees and laid his head over Merlin's.

"We're ready."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _A faithful and good servant is a real godsend; but truly 't is a rare bird in the land_ \- Martin Luther

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made the fatal mistake of telling [](http://openskies.livejournal.com/profile)[**openskies**](http://openskies.livejournal.com/) that I was being harassed by a plot bunny. She then made me write on pain of capslock. ;) But give her lots of praise, because she also made my stunning banner!

  
Gaius put his head into his hands. Morgana just shook her head. "Idiots. A pair of idiots."

Uther was already on his feet, along with most of the crowd – what was their prince doing? Gaius wasn't sure if the boy was a genius or completely stark raving mad. At the moment, he was considering a bit of both.

"He's disgracing the whole court," Uther said, disgust in his voice. "Arthur! Step away from that…man!"

"I won't do it, father." His voice was surprisingly strong and Gaius wondered what Merlin was furiously whispering in his ear. "I won't see him punished for saving my life. If you kill him, you'll have to kill me too."

Morgana shot Gaius a look. He held up his hands. "What? Does this sound like my idea? Only Arthur could come up with something this uniquely stupid."

"Shh," Gwen said. "It might just work."

It seemed Uther sensed the damage was already done, and turned away with a sigh. "Stay the execution."

Gaius released a breath he hadn't realised he was holding. "Praise be."

Arthur had raised his head now and was trying to stand, with Merlin's subtle assistance. The boy was still whispering in his ear, looking both livid and exasperated with his prince.

Uther then turned back to the courtyard, possessed with a new fury. "I order the sorcerer banished from the land of Camelot, never to return on pain of death."

Arthur broke away from Merlin, hand on his hip. "Then I'm going with him!"

Silence. Gwen gasped softly beside him, whilst Morgana's lips twisted: she didn't look surprised. Gaius didn't quite know what to think – had Arthur actually lost his mind?

Uther sneered, waving his hand dismissively. "As you wish. You have until nightfall to leave the city, and may the wolves eat you."

"Pleasant, as always," Morgana muttered under her breath and Gaius offered a small smile. They were alive. Banished, but alive.

"It could be worse," Gwen said, and Gaius quite agreed.

~

Merlin felt like he'd been hit over the head with a castle. "I thought I told you to think it through!"

"We're alive, aren't we?" Arthur seemed ridiculously pleased for someone who looked about two minutes away from a coma. Merlin pulled Arthur closer to him and secured an arm around his waist – the last thing Arthur needed was to crack his head on the stones, though he was beginning to wonder if he already had.

"We've been banished! How are you meant to become king if you've been banished?"

Arthur's face fell. "A 'thank you' would be nice," he muttered, as Gaius, Morgana and Gwen came hurrying up to meet them.

"Well, that was a lucky escape," Gaius said, supporting Arthur's other side before he fell over.

"I think it went rather well," Arthur said cheerfully, swaying so wildly that Merlin thought he might be drunk.

"You were stupid. Brave, but stupid."

"Like you can talk," Gwen said, clearing a path for them through the crowd who had gathered to watch their walk of shame.

"Hmm…yes, about that. You never told me you were a sorcerer. I'm rather hurt."

"You never told me you were an idiot," Merlin retorted, desperate not to have this conversation right now. He had been fully prepared for his head and neck to part ways, but Arthur had turned up and saved him. Admittedly, he'd almost gotten himself killed in the process – and didn't that leave food for thought?

"I should think that, at least, was obvious," Morgana said, glaring at anyone who tried to disturb their progress. "And now you're banished."

"Isn't it great?" Arthur said, as if this was all some grand adventure. Merlin was beginning to wonder if he'd lost serious brain cells.

They arrived at Gaius' chambers and Merlin realised Gaius was directing them towards Merlin's room. "Lie down before you fall down. Merlin will help me prepare breakfast."

As he helped Arthur onto the bed, he realised that his room had been taken over. A few of Arthur's books were scattered about and that was definitely one of his shirts over the chair. There were also far more blankets than he remembered and they all smelled faintly of Arthur.

The prince curled up his side, as Merlin pulled off his boots and then spread the covers over him. "You're an idiot," he said, but there was affection in his voice.

"So you keep saying," Arthur murmured sleepily. Merlin resisted the urge to stroke his hair and gripped his shoulder instead.

"But I am grateful," he said softly and a hint of smile appeared on Arthur's face before he drifted off to sleep.

~

Merlin looked exhausted as he stumbled out of his room – the cells weren't the most comfortable place to sleep, and he had to have been worried. Gwen offered to help Gaius with the breakfast instead and Merlin was too tired to protest.

Morgana had stayed, which had surprised Gwen a little. It was true she had been around Gaius' chambers more since Arthur had moved in but it was still odd to see the royal lady surrounded by the crude comforts of a physician's home.

"How is he then?"

"Sleeping," Merlin said, with a small smile. "I can't believe he did that."

"I think you'd be surprised at what Arthur would do for you," Morgana said, a cryptic smile lighting her face and causing Merlin to blush.

"Just yesterday, he was trying to don his armour and fight his way to the dungeons." Gaius shook his head in amazement, as Merlin frowned.

"But he can barely stand up!"

"Well, he didn't get very far. But he was quite determined."

Gwen watched Merlin eat his porridge, silent and thoughtful. Had he really not expected Arthur to rescue him?

"But then you took quite a risk yourself, Merlin." Morgana smiled and patted his arm.

"Oh, it was nothing," he said dismissively, scraping his bowl clean. "Got to keep the master alive, really. Part of the job."

"Have you given any thought to where you might go?" Gwen said, and Merlin's face fell. They'd all been a bit carried away in Arthur's victory to realise the consequences, and Gwen wished she hadn't said anything.

"Not really," he said, poking at the table with his spoon. "I mean, can we just go to one of the villages?"

"If Uther's men found you, you would be executed. Though I can't imagine they'd be looking that hard."

"We'll probably stay close by for a few days, until Arthur's more himself. I don't want to, ah, risk the wolves until one of us can hold a sword."

"You're getting quite good with a sword. I'm sure you can handle it." Arthur stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms folded. He looked every bit the prince, even in Merlin's worn-out clothes.

Merlin climbed to his feet, smiling as he crossed the room. "I thought you were resting."

"Couldn't sleep." Arthur accepted Merlin's arm and made his way slowly to the table.

"You'll need to save your strength for tonight," Morgana said sternly, nudging her half-eaten porridge towards him. He took the bowl gratefully but only managed a couple of mouthfuls before pushing it aside.

Merlin sat down beside him, looking concerned and…something else? Gwen had heard Morgana's thoughts about them, and she wondered if they might be true.

Arthur caught Merlin's eye and patted his hand. "I'm fine, you know."

"You look like death."

Arthur made a face. "Such compliments. Last time I save your sorry hide."

Merlin grinned. "Sorry. You're just…I was worried, okay?"

Nobody moved. Arthur gave him a lopsided smile. "So was I."

Gwen was suddenly aware that she was disturbing a private moment, and hurried to clear the dishes. Morgana excused herself for an unspecified appointment and Gaius insisted he had to start his rounds.

She shut the door behind her, leaving them alone. It seemed they had a lot to talk about.

~

"Well, that will be enough food for three days. After that, you should be able to hunt again."

Arthur looked up from where he was attempting to stuff his bow into his knapsack. "I should think so. I'm feeling better with every minute!"

Merlin smiled, something playing behind his eyes. "You do look better," he said, almost wondering, and Arthur rolled his eyes.

"I'm not a china doll, Merlin. I won't break."

A twist of his lips, and he had turned his back, sorting through the pile of clothes on the table. Arthur frowned – what had he said now?

"Merlin?"

"You weren't there," he said quietly. "You don't know…I thought you were going to die. I…knew I had to think of something, but I didn't know what…and I was…so scared, to use magic, in front of everyone." He turned around, and his eyes were shining. "I almost got you killed!"

Arthur stood and walked over to him, resting his hands on Merlin's shoulders. "You saved my life, and you…almost died for it. Don't you dare apologise to me."

Merlin's face relaxed into an easy smile. "Okay then," he said, a whisper so intimate it stabbed Arthur through the heart. Reluctantly, he released Merlin's shoulders and went back to his knapsack.

"Couldn't you just-" he waved his arms about "-magic this all into place?"

Merlin gave him an indulgent smile. "Yeah, I could."

He affected his best commanding prince pose. "Get on with it then."

However, Merlin was immune to this tactic and just sighed affectionately, sending random piles of clothing into the pack. It was amazing to watch, especially the way Merlin's eyes turned sun-gold. How had he never noticed it before?

Merlin looked around, surveying his handiwork and blushing. "I, uh, think we're done then."

Arthur glanced at the window – the sky was darkening. Reluctantly, he climbed to his feet, swinging the knapsack over his shoulder.

"Are you all right with that?"

Arthur looked at him. "Merlin, I can carry a few arrows!" He strapped his sword to his side, feeling much more secure with it close at hand; Merlin smiled at him, maybe a little teasing in his eyes, and perhaps some affection.

They had been dancing round each other all day, neither saying very much but never straying too far. Gwen and Morgana had said their goodbyes and it had been a little tearful; he had realised then exactly what he had gotten himself into, but surprisingly, he wouldn't change it for the world.

He knew exactly how long Merlin would last in the woods, magic or no, and he wouldn't send him to another execution. His father's guards would think twice before attacking a prince.

Was he still a prince? He wasn't quite sure of the technicalities. He was still Uther's son, still the heir of Camelot in theory – and when he was king, he would just overturn Merlin's banishment and it would all be fine. He was just facing a few years in a village, that was all. Just him and Merlin.

It sounded strangely appealing, and he didn't know why.

"Merlin? Arthur? Are you ready?"

They gathered their things, Merlin's pack significantly bulkier than his – just until he was well, he insisted. Merlin was definitely not his manservant anymore. He wasn't actually sure what he was, but there wasn't much he was certain about now.

Merlin gave Gaius a hug and the old man hurriedly brushed away a tear. And then Arthur also found himself being hugged, something he'd had little experience of in his life, but…it felt good. He felt wanted.

"Now, be off with you before Uther hangs you both. Keep safe – and don't come back here under any circumstances. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Gaius," Merlin said, with an affectionate roll of his eyes, and then they were leaving. Leaving Camelot.

Arthur had never felt so happy.

~

"Look at them."

As she watched the retreating figures, Morgana kept her own counsel, knowing they were seeing two very different things.

"I see them," she said.

"Debasing himself like this. Running off with a servant! He's enchanted him, I'm sure of it."

Uther looked strained, and Morgana wondered if he believed what he was saying. "What are you going to do?"

She would have to get a warning to Merlin, so that he could protect himself. He'd have to leave Arthur behind, but was the companionship worth his life?

"Nothing," Uther said coldly, and she relaxed. "If he comes to his senses, he'll return. And if he remains…well…an heir who is so easily ensorcelled is of no value."

Morgana heard his words, but his clenched fist spoke differently. He was worried for Arthur and, whatever he might say, he did not want to lose his son. She would have to watch him carefully. "Perhaps."

Uther glanced at her, an appraising look at his face. "Have you said your goodbyes then?"

She kept her face impassive. "Have you?"

He turned away from the balcony and retreated into the castle. She continued to watch, noting Merlin pulling Arthur's arm around his shoulders, the easy affection they held between them.

They reached the gates as the sun fell from the sky, and then she could see no more.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _A faithful and good servant is a real godsend; but truly 't is a rare bird in the land_ \- Martin Luther

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made the fatal mistake of telling [](http://openskies.livejournal.com/profile)[**openskies**](http://openskies.livejournal.com/) that I was being harassed by a plot bunny. She then made me write on pain of capslock. ;) But give her lots of praise, because she also made my stunning banner!

  
"I'm tired. Can we stop now?"

He'd been indulging Arthur for about an hour, pretending the prince wasn't dragging his feet like an old woman and trying not to fall into a ditch. Arthur was too proud to ask for a rest, so Merlin had been stopping for hundreds of petty little excuses that Arthur hadn't had the energy to call him on.

However, after the third stumble in as many minutes, Merlin thought it was time to call it a day.

Arthur just sat down on the ground, burying his face in his hands. "Merlin, I know I said-"

"I'll take care of it," he said softly; Arthur looked up with worried eyes but Merlin just smiled. "Friends do things for each other too."

And there was that thing again, that strange fire dancing behind Arthur's eyes. It had been more prominent recently, coming out to play more often than not, but he still hadn't worked out what it meant.

Arthur had shown him how to make a hunting shelter before – the tent was too heavy to carry without a mule and they wanted to travel light – and he made fast work of it, branches twisted deftly under his fingers. Soon, the bedrolls were laid out and he half-dragged Arthur under the shelter.

He no longer had to pretend he couldn't light the fire and it burst to life, crackling softly before his eyes. It was these raw elemental spells that came easiest – he hadn't worked out how to command the more complicated tasks, such as weaving or embroidery. Those were still the work of his hands, but he liked the traces of Arthur on his fingers.

Arthur was still far too thin and he shivered under his blanket. Merlin shifted closer, wondering how close he could get before Arthur became suspicious. The prince shifted and winced, screwing his eyes shut. Merlin sighed.

"Roll over," he said, exasperation in his voice.

"I'm fine."

"No, you're in pain. Roll over."

Arthur's expression was unreadable but he rolled onto his stomach, hitching up his tunic. Merlin carefully unwound the bandage, fingers skittering over Arthur's bare skin.

The wound was red and inflamed, but at least it was healing now. Merlin wondered if he could do anything without a healing poultice, though there was no harm in trying.

"This might hurt a little," he said and placed his palm over the wound. Arthur hissed as he started the spell, the blue mist rising from Arthur's skin as it warmed under his fingers.

He took away his hand and eyed his work critically. The wound had closed and was fading to a dusky pink, the stark white of a scar the only mark of the dagger. "It's looking good," he said, pleased with himself and Arthur muttered something under his breath.

Replacing the tunic and casting the bandage aside, he carefully helped Arthur turn onto his back. The prince's hand tightened on his shirt, sending him sprawling over Arthur's chest.

They both held their breath, Merlin's face inches away from Arthur's, the prince's lips curving into a smile. "Hello," he said.

Merlin started to pull back, averting his eyes. "Sorry, I'm sorry, I should-"

Arthur held on. "Are you?"

He froze, the glint in Arthur's eyes magnified a thousand times, and he suddenly realised exactly what it meant. "No."

His lips were impossibly soft, but insistent, offering Merlin no option but to surrender, give in, indulge. He slid his hand into Arthur's hair, fingers shaking at the contact, not quite believing this was real.

Arthur winced.

Merlin pulled away and sighed. "When you're better," he said, softly, and Arthur pouted like a spoiled child. Merlin laughed and rolled off him, finding his hand to clasp it in his own.

"You couldn't have said something earlier?"

"I…tried not to think about it."

"Oh."

"Merlin, not like that." He rolled onto his side, coaxing Merlin into facing him. "It was…difficult. I can't, well, I can't do this. Princes don't just…run off with their servants."

Merlin smiled. "You did."

Arthur frowned. "That was different."

He thought the look of scepticism covered everything. Arthur sighed.

"Maybe not that different," he admitted quietly. Merlin smiled – they argued still, but now he could reach out and sweep his thumb across those lips, lean forward and tempt him into a chaste kiss.

He could get used to this exile business.

~

As he strung up the last rabbit, he felt this was a job well done. His arms ached from disuse but it was pleasant feeling, reminding him of one particularly hard training session where he'd finally mastered the two-arrow shot.

He carried the branch across his shoulders, slowly making his way back to their camp. Merlin was still reluctant to stray too far from the city until Arthur was completely well, but he was eager to escape the place as quickly as possible. Just thinking about his father left a bad taste in his mouth.

He'd left Merlin still sleeping beneath the blankets; all his magic work had really taken it out of him. Arthur knew he'd diverted the palace guards at least twice, but he was probably keeping watch every night, ready to leap to Arthur's defence. It would have been endearing if it hadn't made Arthur feel so completely useless.

"Where have you been?"

"Hunting," Arthur said, grinning as he set down the rabbits and started removing them from the branch. "This will keep us going for a few more days."

"I woke up and…you were gone."

Arthur froze – he sounded so scared in that moment that Arthur leaned towards him, reaching for him with filthy hands to caress his cheek. He left a smear of blood on Merlin's skin – marked, his.

"I'm sorry. I won't do it again."

Merlin took a deep breath and produced a smile. "Okay."

They prepared the rabbits in silence, the messy work of skinning and salting drawing all their attention. This wouldn't be for much longer - he anticipated they'd stay in the woods for another couple of weeks before finding a small village on the outskirts of the kingdom.

As of yet, he wasn't exactly sure what they would do. Merlin had grown up in a village but Arthur had never stayed outside Camelot for more than a few nights and he didn't really know how villages worked.

Would he be expected to learn a trade? Or would Merlin use his magic as a healer or a craftsman? And where did that leave him? The idea of a crown prince playing housewife was absurd but he could probably learn to bake a pie if he put his mind to it.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Villages," he said, absently.

Merlin laughed, but it was a gentle sound, no trace of mockery in its cadence. "You'll be fine. No one will recognise you – you'll just be any guy, doing whatever you want, going anywhere. I think you'll like it."

It sounded so alien but also appealing – no expectations, no commitments, no constant need for vigilance. Just him and Merlin and this village where they'd live. They'd have to build a hut, of course – weren't they made of straw? He hoped Merlin had some idea what he was doing or the whole thing would fall around their heads.

A gentle touch rubbed at the line between his eyebrows. "You think too much. It'll be fine."

Arthur smiled then, relaxing back into his easy mood. Yes, it would be just fine.

~

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Bathing. I thought that was obvious."

Arthur was clearly trying to drive him insane. The water was gently lapping at his waist as he dipped his head under and came up in a shower of fine droplets.

Absolutely insane.

"Arthur, it's freezing. You're going to get a cold."

"I won't be long. I just need to be clean."

Merlin sat on the river bank, shaking his head. This was the latest stage in Arthur's campaign of seduction: to drive Merlin crazy until he relented and let Arthur into his bed.

And it wasn't as if he didn't _want_ Arthur – he very much wanted Arthur – but he was still ill. Oh, he was certainly hiding it better, but he hadn't gained back even half the weight he'd lost and he was sleeping far more than he should be. Merlin wasn't going to jeopardise his health for a quick fumble in the forest.

"Care to join me?"

Arthur had other ideas.

"It's not working, you know."

Those wide innocent eyes weren't fooling anyone. "What's not working?"

Merlin waved his hands about. "This. You. I'm not giving in!"

Arthur shot him a knowing smile that said he knew very well who had the upper hand and it wasn't the idiot on the bank. Merlin sighed again – it was going to be a very trying few days.

~

His eyes flew open and he reached for Merlin. "Did you hear that?"

"Yes."

Voices close by. Too near to distract now – they'd be upon them any minute. Arthur pushed aside the blanket and took up his sword. "I'll handle this."

"Arthur, what are you-"

He was up and away before Merlin could protest further, creeping through the forest as stealthily as he could. There were four of them – heavily armed from the sound of it, and that narrowed down the possibilities dramatically. His father must be desperate to send his guards out this far.

They weren't well trained, however, and he could easily knock them out for a few hours, buying them enough time to move further away. Waiting a few more seconds, until they were firmly in his line of sight, he smiled to himself – this was something he could do.

With a shout, he set upon them, knocking two out with the flat of his sword, before facing the others. They looked terrified – obviously, being sent to deal with the prince was one thing, but actually facing him? Arthur grinned.

"If you know what's good for you, you'll run."

They didn't need to be told twice, fleeing into the night and abandoning their comrades. Cowards.

A yell from behind him started him to life and he pelted towards the camp site, all thoughts of stealth forgotten. "MERLIN!"

He burst through the trees in time to see a guard's cloak burst into flames and a sword connect with Merlin's stomach. Arthur exploded into a flurry of motion, taking out both guards with bone-breaking force, before falling to his knees beside Merlin.

"Merlin…Merlin, speak to me."

"Ow."

Arthur helped him sit up, prising his hand away from his stomach. "Let me see."

"It's nothing…only a scratch."

"Merlin," he said, voice cracking with worry, and Merlin reluctantly let his hand fall away. It was a shallow wound and Arthur breathed a sigh of relief, but couldn't quite let go of him.

"I'm okay. Really, I'm okay."

Arthur buried his face in Merlin's neck, arms tightening around him. This was what being close to someone meant – this horrible ache inside him, that sick twist when he thought Merlin might be in danger. How did people live like this?

"Arthur, I'm fine. We need to get going."

"Give me a minute," he whispered hoarsely, struggling to bring himself under control. He couldn't react this way every time Merlin got hurt – what if he was distracted in a fight and was killed? What would Merlin do then?

Moist lips brushed his temple as he felt the whisper of fingers in his hair. Merlin was hurt and he was being comforted. Nothing made sense anymore.

Eventually, he relaxed his hold and looked up. Merlin's lips held a cautious smile and he was compelled to return it. "Sorry."

"You worry too much," Merlin said, kissing him lightly before struggling to his feet with a hiss. Arthur took a bandage from his pack and deftly wound it round Merlin's torso, while Merlin patiently endured the fussing.

He shouldered the heavier pack despite Merlin's protests and, with a slow shuffle, they headed off into the night.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _A faithful and good servant is a real godsend; but truly 't is a rare bird in the land_ \- Martin Luther

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made the fatal mistake of telling [](http://openskies.livejournal.com/profile)[**openskies**](http://openskies.livejournal.com/) that I was being harassed by a plot bunny. She then made me write on pain of capslock. ;) But give her lots of praise, because she also made my stunning banner!

  
"Arthur, why are we doing this?"

His ribs ached and he wanted to sleep, but Arthur continued pushing him up the tree. "So that my father's guards don't find us."

Merlin finally settled on a sturdy branch, watching Arthur haul their packs up behind him, before sitting on an adjacent limb. "Won't we fall out?"

Arthur seemed to consider this for a moment. "No."

"No? That's it, 'no'?"

Arthur nodded. "No. I'm going to create a platform and you're going to…do something so that it doesn't fall."

"Yeah, I can do that," Merlin muttered sleepily, twisting so he could lie back against the tree trunk.

When he opened his eyes, it was dark and Arthur was tentatively nudging his shoulder. "Merlin?"

"Mm?"

"It's ready. Can you move?"

With Arthur's help, he managed not to fall out of the tree and shuffle across to Arthur's branch. With bleary eyes, he made out the complicated woven mat of branches.

"Wow."

"You need to-"

"I'm getting there!"

Merlin stretched a hand out to touch the mat, glad of Arthur's firm grip on his waist, and mumbled a binding spell. The whole thing glowed green for a moment and Arthur gasped softly – Merlin loved that he could thrill him with such cheap parlour tricks.

"Bedtime?"

Arthur chuckled in his ear. "Adorable."

With a sleepy smile, Merlin crawled onto the leafy bed, pulling the blankets out of his pack and hauling Arthur down next to him. "Sleep."

He closed his eyes, and Arthur's laughter followed him into his dreams.

~

He sensed their presence before he heard them. Pulling Merlin closer to his side, he reached for his sword and opened his eyes.

Suppressing a gasp, he nudged Merlin in the side and whispered in his ear, "Merlin! Wake up!"

Merlin frowned and pressed his head into Arthur's neck. "Go 'way."

"Merlin! This is important!"

With a put-upon sigh, Merlin turned his head and opened his eyes. "What?"

"Did you do this?"

"Do what?"

Arthur hauled them both up to a sit and gestured around them. Merlin's eyes widened. "I don't think we fell asleep surrounded by branches, did we?"

It was as if the tree had surrounded them, thick leafy branches weaving together to create a sheltered enclosure in which they could sleep. Merlin rubbed at his shirt – it was slightly damp, and his cheeks coloured.

"Uh…might have been. It was raining."

"Raining," Arthur repeated blankly. "You did this because it was _raining_?"

Merlin shrugged. "Maybe?"

The voices got louder and Arthur laid a finger on Merlin's lips, listening. However, they soon faded, disappearing into the distance. Arthur gave Merlin an appraising look and kissed him.

"Thank God for rain," he said.

~

They stayed in their tree house until they ran out of rabbit and then Arthur suggested they move on. Merlin slid down the tree trunk and landed in Arthur's outstretched arms, suffering the alternating mockery and fussing that seemed to accompany all his accidents these days.

"You have all the survival instincts of a newborn kitten," Arthur scolded, brushing the dirt from Merlin's tunic.

"And you're a clucking hen," Merlin said, tiredly, but Arthur's head shot up, indignation splashed across his face.

"I am not! I'm a prince!"

"And a hen."

"Merlin!"

"Buck buck BUCK!"

Arthur tried for a frown but ended up laughing, clutching on to Merlin for support. "Okay, okay, you win, Merlin, you win."

They walked together in contented silence, heading for the border with Garthmadrun. It was a quiet kingdom and had passable relations with Camelot – at least, so Arthur said. They could set up house quietly within its borders and still hear news, and it was a little strange to think of "setting up house" with Arthur.

In a flurry, horses appeared through the trees and Merlin heard the sharp ring of a sword being drawn. He was thrown behind Arthur, who kept him at his back, circling madly as more and more horses appeared.

Uther was more persistent than he'd thought.

"How many?" he whispered.

"Sixteen." Merlin craned his neck to have a look but Arthur pushed him back. "Stay down, Merlin!"

This was it. They couldn't possibly escape sixteen mounted soldiers, not unless Merlin used magic. And if he used magic on the king's guards, that was it – Uther would hound them to the ends of the earth and there would be all that messy rope-swinging.

Which is how this would end anyway, but at least he could hope to spare Arthur. He wouldn't make him an accomplice. Maybe he could cause a distraction and spirit Arthur away, but the stupid fool would probably just try to rescue him some heroic and noble gesture. Prat.

Merlin was just considering how best to both remove and incapacitate Arthur when a trumpet sounded. Huh?

"Greetings to Lord Prince Arthur of Camelot from His Majesty King Uther of Camelot."

"Greetings?" Arthur spat angrily, but the herald barrelled on.

"Your presence is requested at the royal court of Camelot on the evening of the fifteenth of the month. Do not…delay."

Arthur allowed Merlin to peek round his shoulder, but kept a restraining hand on his arm. His sword shook faintly in his hand. "My father sent you out here to ask me for _dinner_?"

The herald's face was carefully blank. "Your presence is requested, sire."

Drawing himself up to his full height, Arthur glared imperiously at the man. "And if I refuse?"

"Then we are ordered to accompany you and your…attendant to Camelot."

Arthur went to Camelot or Merlin's neck met an axe. Wonderful.

"I'll be fine," he whispered in Arthur's ear, but the prince was clearly not paying attention.

"And what about Merlin?"

"The summons only mentions you, my lord."

"Bastard," Arthur muttered. "Tell the king I assent to this meeting."

The herald looked faintly relieved. "Very well, my lord. A good day to you."

As quickly as they'd appeared, the horses were gone and they were once more alone.

"It's okay – I'll just go back to the tree house-"

"They'll find you. It's too risky. You'll have to come with me."

"Arthur, I'm a wanted criminal!"

"And out here, there are no laws. We can hide you outside the city walls if we have to – I just want you within shouting distance."

Merlin sighed. There was no arguing with Arthur when he was determined like this. "Okay. Let's head back."


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _A faithful and good servant is a real godsend; but truly 't is a rare bird in the land_ \- Martin Luther

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made the fatal mistake of telling [](http://openskies.livejournal.com/profile)[**openskies**](http://openskies.livejournal.com/) that I was being harassed by a plot bunny. She then made me write on pain of capslock. ;) But give her lots of praise, because she also made my stunning banner!

  
It wasn't quite clear. Why was it never clear?

_Light filtered through the trees, but it was thick and sluggish, seen through a murky pond. The trees stretched for miles, green and lush – but there! Two people, together, tightly-bound souls and bursting hearts._

They were safe, but they were walking the wrong way.

Morgana muttered in her sleep and turned over.

_Now it was Merlin who leaned on Arthur and she saw the look in their eyes, knew she had been right and wrong and right. They were lovers now, not then, but now - why did they return? Were they not afraid? No-_

She gasped.

_Uther, with a bloodied knife. Uther, with his angry scowl. Arthur, worn and worried and pale. No sign of Merlin._

No sign.

Morgana's eyes flew open. What did it mean?

The dragon stirred.

~

"Now, this is the plan-"

"Why do you get to make the plan?"

Arthur sighed. "Who here is a master strategician?" He raised his hand and glared pointedly at Merlin. "Oh, yes, that's right – me. Who here is a bumbling warlock?"

"Arthur-"

"That would be you. Are we clear?"

Merlin folded Arthur's hand between his own. "It's okay to be worried."

Arthur flushed. "As I was saying, the plan is this: I approach the gates straight on, making a bit of a spectacle."

"Shouldn't be hard," Merlin muttered and avoided Arthur's elbow jab.

"You come at them from the side, pressing into the wall and…concealing yourself. You can do that?"

Merlin wracked his brains for concealment spells and could only remember the one that turned him into a beautiful woman. "Should be fine," he said weakly.

"Good," Arthur said, seriously. "I will see what my father wants and leave as quickly as possible. If I'm not back by dawn, you will leave without me – is that understood?"

"I'm not leaving you!" Merlin said, heatedly. To his surprise, Arthur grabbed both his shoulders and shook them.

"Merlin, you have to promise me you'll leave. I won't put your life in danger."

"And I won't let you remain a prisoner!" Suddenly, his mouth went dry. "Unless…y'know, you've changed your mind."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Don't be an idiot, Merlin. If I still have a sword in my hand, I will fight my way to you. Just – please don't come after me."

Merlin stuck out his chin. "I can't promise that."

"Prat." Arthur kissed him on the nose and eventually let go of his shoulders, straightening his tunic like the fussing mother hen he was. "You remember the plan?"

"I remember the plan," Merlin said dully. "Be careful."

Arthur took a step away, hand resting on his sword. "I'll be fine. What can he possibly do to me?"

Merlin restrained himself with difficulty, watching Arthur walk a few paces towards the gate. Reluctantly, he started moving west, coming at the wall slowly and with the vague haze of a silencing spell surrounding him.

"Guardsman! Tell the King his son has arrived!"

The old swagger was back, the faintly bored arrogance of the royal tone, and it had the desired effect, guards scurrying forward to attend him. Merlin edged closer and mingled with the few people still outside the city limits, finding a comfortable patch of wall where he could watch the gate and remain mostly hidden.

He watched Arthur disappear through the gate, unable to shake the feeling that something terrible was about to happen. He only hoped he would be fast enough to save him when it did.

~

Gaius caught a flash of red in the corridor and stared. It couldn't be…he wouldn't be that stupid, would he?

"Arthur?"

And yet there he was, the lunatic prince, greeting him with a warm smile. "Gaius." He looked better, more meat on his bones, but his face was far from untroubled.

"Are you mad, boy? Do you want to get yourself killed?"

Arthur sighed deeply. "My father summoned me."

Gaius frowned. "And where is Merlin?"

With a quick check behind him, Arthur stepped closer. "Outside the city gates, hopefully keeping himself hidden."

"Outside? He should be far away, Arthur, far from your father."

Arthur's mouth settled into a hard line. "I know. But his guards have been combing the forest for us and I dare not leave him unprotected. My father has once more brought me to heel."

Gaius placed a steadying hand on his shoulder. "Together, you and Merlin are strong. Remember that and he can do you no harm."

He looked so hopelessly young for a moment but then he straightened, squaring his shoulders and raising his chin. "You're right. I've made my choice and he will respect it."

Arthur marched down the corridor, but hesitated a moment, turning back to him with a slight smile. "And thank you."

"You're welcome, sire," Gaius said, and watched the boy stride off to become a man.

~

The crowd had thinned, but no one noticed him in the shadow of the battlements. Night was beginning to close, but at his position by the wall, he was defended from forced both without and within the city.

Arthur would be with Uther any minute now. Maybe Uther would manipulate him, tell him lies, convince him to stay – would Arthur be swayed? Merlin knew that he could not be tempted to leave him, but there was a tinge of doubt.

Uther was very persuasive. And naturally, Arthur would want to be a prince and remain with his family. Who wouldn't? Well, Merlin himself wouldn't want to be royalty, but that was different. It was the only life Arthur knew, and he hadn't sounded too sure about the village.

Would he leave at dawn? He didn't think so – but what were his options? Find Gaius or Gwen and involve them with a wanted man? Charge into Uther's chambers and demand he return his…friend? lover? Merlin flushed at the thought, ducking his head inside his cloak.

Not leaving then.

"Oi, boy, where y'going with those apples?"

A gate guard plucked the basket off the boy's head, holding it away from him. The boy yelled, reaching up for it, but he was too short. He couldn't be much younger than Merlin, wearing clothes that were too small for him, ragged and torn. An urchin, maybe.

"He were bringin' them t'us, weren't he?"

"Give them back!"

The boy swung a fist at the guard, but his friend caught the arm easily, twisting it behind the boy's back. "I could arrest you, kid."

"Leave me alone!"

"Oh, he wants a fight, does he?" The guard took a swing at the boy, his fist connecting with his stomach. Merlin had seen enough.

"You don't want to do that," he said.

~

The guards announced him like a foreign dignitary and when he ended the room, he found Uther and Morgana at table, enjoying glazed goose. Uther's mouth twisted into a smile but Morgana blanched white, her goblet slipping from her hand and spilling red wine over the ivory tablecloth.

Uther retrieved his knife, shaking red droplets onto the floor. "You're just in time for dinner."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Dinner? I'm in exile, father. I didn't just pop in for a bite to eat."

Uther replaced the knife on the table very carefully. "You are not in exile. You chose to leave the city temporarily-"

"Temporarily?"

"-for personal reasons, after that little show we put on for the public." Uther smiled. "I've always loved open air theatre."

He'd expected his father to arrange a suitable story, and he wondered what that meant for Merlin. Was he still charged as a sorcerer or was that believed to be part of the entertainment? And how to ask without revealing the true nature of their relationship?

"Father, a man's life is at stake. This is no time for jesting."

Uther rose from the table then and stalked towards him, grabbing his shoulder in a powerful grip. "You are putting your life in danger. How can I make you see sense?"

Arthur tore his arm away, furious. "You need to see sense, father! Merlin isn't a threat to me or to Camelot – if you weren't so blinded by hatred, you would see that!"

The king's mouth settled into a hard line and he leaned closer. "Let me tell you about Merlin."

~

When Gwen entered the dining room, she knew something was wrong. She saw Morgana's frantic signalling first – danger? – and then she saw Arthur. Why was Arthur here?

He was locked in conversation with Uther, a whispered tirade that left his eye wide and his face drawn. Morgana, however, looked worse, as if the plague had come to Camelot and was stealing her away – she repeated the signal for danger, eyes locked on Arthur. Where was Merlin?

Gwen slipped out of the door, heading for Gaius' chambers; he'd know what was going on. She hurried down the corridor, the look on Morgana's face looming at the front of her mind.

"Gwen, where are you going in such a hurry?"

She turned on her heel and grabbed his arm. "Gaius, Arthur's here!"

He nodded gravely. "Yes, I've seen him. Idiot."

"Morgana…she's worried. Very worried. Where's-" She lowered her voice. "Where's Merlin?"

"By the gates. Why?"

Gwen let go and started to run. "I have to find him!"

She didn't know why it was so important to find Merlin but something told her this was wrong. Arthur shouldn't be there, Morgana should not be sick with terror and Merlin should not be this close to the city. Something terrible was going to happen.

There was a crowd gathered by the gate, cheering and jeering, but she pushed her way through and found the commotion: Merlin. Three guards and one Merlin, no magic…

She wouldn't vomit, she wouldn't faint – she had to get help. As quickly as she'd appeared, she pushed back through the crowd. She was just one woman and she didn't even have a sword. She needed Arthur.

She ran for the castle.

~

His mind was reeling. They were just rumours – thoughtless, senseless village gossip. But they could be true. Could be. He didn't know what to think.

"I hope you understand now, son, why I…regretted your departure."

Yet he knew he loved Merlin. Did the old man think this changed anything? Did he honestly think-

The doors to the dining room burst open and Arthur turned to see Gwen between them, gasping for breath. "Merlin…hurry!"

Without a second thought, he ran from the hall, dashing through the corridors until he reached the courtyard. Couldn't he stay out of trouble for five minutes?

He heard the crowd before he could see them, and that did not bode well. If Merlin was using magic in full view of the city…

They were chanting. They were chanting 'kill him'.

Arthur drew his sword and yelled. The crowd parted.

Three guards were kicking a huddled figure in the dust. The figure didn't move.

Arthur charged.

The fight was a blur, but his sword flew hard and heavy – he would not hold back now. The steel drew blood and three men lay gravely wounded as he approached that still boy, trembling.

"Merlin? Oh, Merlin…"

Kneeling beside him, he pushed back his hair, matted with blood. Then, Merlin coughed and Arthur's heart leapt – he was alive!

Suddenly, strong arms grabbed his and he struggled for a moment, before feeling a blow land on his jaw. "I place you under arrest for assault on the king's guard. Come quietly, or we will use force."

He watched as Merlin was hauled up, unable to support his own weight, and he felt his stomach sink. They were really being arrested. It was over.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _A faithful and good servant is a real godsend; but truly 't is a rare bird in the land_ \- Martin Luther

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made the fatal mistake of telling [](http://openskies.livejournal.com/profile)[**openskies**](http://openskies.livejournal.com/) that I was being harassed by a plot bunny. She then made me write on pain of capslock. ;) But give her lots of praise, because she also made my stunning banner!

  
He burned and ached and stung. He tried to shift position but that set everything on fire. He cried out.

"Hush…I've got you. It's okay."

Arthur. Arthur was here.

"Ar'fa?" His lips were swollen and split and talking hurt.

"Didn't I tell you to be quiet? You're in no condition to talk."

"Hm."

His eyes were swollen shut but his head and shoulders were supported by something warm and there were fingers in his hair. A scratchy blanket tickled his chin and he felt bulky with bandaging and splints. Had something happened?

"Gaius said he'd be back soon, with a draught for the pain. You must rest."

The guards had attacked him, three of them. Arthur had saved him. Like always.

"Wh'r we?"

There was a sigh above him. "I just knew you couldn't follow simple instructions. Such as 'shut up, Merlin' or 'stay hidden, Merlin'. Honestly, _Morgana_ listens more than you."

Merlin waited.

"If you must know, we're in the dungeon. My father had us arrested for attacking his precious guards."

"Oh."

Another sigh. "'Oh' doesn't even begin to cover it. We never should have come here."

Merlin tried to reach for Arthur's hand, but his fingers were weighed down with splints and his shoulder ached. However, he felt the sweep of a thumb across his wrist and smiled.

"I know. We didn't have a choice."

Merlin tried to look on the bright side. It could be worse: they could be dead. And at least they were in the same cell, for some quality time together.

"I'm not sure the dungeon counts as 'quality time', Merlin."

A pause.

"You didn't say anything, did you?"

"Uh?" _'Arthur, can you hear me?'_

"Yes," he breathed, "I hear you."

~

With Morgana by her side, they weren't challenged once and they descended the steps to the dungeon. She could hear Arthur and Gaius arguing from the corridor and the guards shot them a disgusted look, but let them pass.

"Is that really necessary?"

"If he wants to use his hand again, yes."

"'Ev it, A'fa."

"I will not! You're in pain."

She took in the scene quickly. Arthur was sat on the floor, back against the wall, with Merlin resting against his chest. The prince held him loosely in his arms whilst Gaius unwrapped the bandages supporting the broken fingers on his left hand.

"We brought food," Morgana said, sweeping in and kneeling on Arthur's right. He smiled gratefully and acknowledged Gwen with a nod.

"He's going to shout, you know."

"Let him," Morgana said fiercely. "That man has Merlin's blood on his hands."

"My lady, you can't think the king responsible for this."

"Then why summon Arthur here? Why bring him back?"

Gwen caught Arthur's look of resignation. "What do you think, my lord?"

"I think he's capable of anything," he said tiredly, pulling Merlin closer to him. Merlin made a contented noise and Arthur smiled.

"You need to eat." Morgana pulled out the bread she'd brought and tore off a chunk for Arthur.

"Did you bring something for Merlin?"

"Soup. Now, eat."

Arthur ate from her hand, still watching Gaius' every move. Gwen could see Merlin desperately trying not to flinch and took out the draught Gaius had prepared for him.

"Merlin, this will help with the pain."

She pressed the goblet to his lips and he drank slowly but eventually forced it down.

"Better?" Arthur said, his voice shaking slightly.

"Mm."

"Well, isn't this a happy gathering?"

Gwen whipped round to see Uther in the doorway, flanked by four guards. Everyone held their breath.

"I do not remember asking you to attend the prisoner, Gaius. You are dismissed."

"Uther-"

"That was not a request."

Gaius carefully secured the bandage and patted Merlin's arm, rising slowly to his feet. "You're making a mistake, Uther."

"When I want your counsel, I shall ask for it."

With a shake of his head, Gaius left the dungeon. "Morgana, this is no place for a lady. Guard – escort the lady Morgana and her handmaiden back to her chambers."

"You disgust me!" she said, spitting at his feet, and charging past the guard. Gwen reluctantly followed, wondering what would become of her friends now.

~

_'Don't do anything stupid.'_

_'As if the thought had crossed my mind!'_

"You have something to say to me, father?"

The disgust on his face was answer enough. Arthur wondered what he could have seen, what he might know. Yet Arthur was holding Merlin still, his arms close around him, and he was not letting go.

"You defied me and I allowed you to leave. Now, when you return to me, you bring pestilence and chaos with you."

Arthur bristled – pestilence and chaos? Merlin?

_'Easy, Arthur. Keep your temper.'_

"I have given you too many chances, Arthur. I had hoped you would come to your senses but I see it is too late for that."

Instinctively, his hold on Merlin tightened. "Father, what-"

"Guards, remove the prince to his chambers and detain him."

"No!"

Quickly, he moved away from Merlin – they wouldn't hesitate to throw him aside. His father had picked strong men for the task and his struggles were in vain. He had to leave Merlin with his father.

Leave him.

_'Arthur, it's okay. Really. As long as you're safe.'_

With a yell, Arthur broke one arm free from his captors and tried to run, but the other man pulled him back and the side of his head collided with the stone wall.

For a moment, he saw stars, and then black.

~

He heard the struggle, and then nothing. Arthur was gone from his mind.

"Ar'fa!"

"I have taken him away for his own safety. He will thank me in time."

Uther was taking everything away from him. They'd all tried to defend him and they'd been removed – Arthur, typically, couldn't leave without a fight, but he was gone too.

"I know what you are. You've poisoned my son against me, but I will not let you keep him while there is still breath in my body. Do you understand me, sorcerer?"

He did. He understood that fierce and brutal love that burned in a man's chest and took his breath away. He knew it because it was his own.  
"Camelot is safe. My son is safe. If one…man has to die for that, then it is worth the price."

Merlin braced himself for the blow – Uther wouldn't leave anything to chance this time. But precious seconds passed and no one moved. When Uther finally spoke, his voice was rough and breaking.

"But first you will undo your spell on my son!"


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _A faithful and good servant is a real godsend; but truly 't is a rare bird in the land_ \- Martin Luther

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made the fatal mistake of telling [](http://openskies.livejournal.com/profile)[**openskies**](http://openskies.livejournal.com/) that I was being harassed by a plot bunny. She then made me write on pain of capslock. ;) But give her lots of praise, because she also made my stunning banner!

  
When he opened his eyes, it was dark. The ceiling tilted against his eyes and it hurt. His arms were slow and heavy but he pushed himself up. All his blood was in his head, pounding like a war drum, but he had to fight it. He had to get to Merlin.

He couldn't remember why, but it was important. Merlin was in trouble. And when Merlin was in trouble, Arthur saved him and everything got better. It was true like swords were swords - it made sense.

The floor kept trying to take his feet but he stole them back. If he got though the door, he could find Merlin. If only the floor would stop moving!

He found the handle but his hand went through it. He tried again and caught it, but it was hard to turn. Then it opened and a large scarecrow said, "Sire?"

Did he know a talking scarecrow? Nevermind. "We need to find Merlin."

The scarecrow frowned. "Sire, you're not well. You need to lie down."

"No, find Merlin."

He tried to push past the scarecrow but it was made of rocks. It dragged him back to the bed and made him lie down. The ceiling sped up and slowed down until he had to close his eyes.

He had to save Merlin.

Merlin…

~

Warm water trickled down his neck and he flinched.

"It's all right, Arthur – it's just me. How are you feeling?"

Arthur forced his eyes open and tried to sit up. "Gaius," he croaked, "where's Merlin?"

"Sire, you really must lie down. You've suffered a nasty head injury and it requires proper rest."

Arthur swung his legs over the side of the bed. "Not until Merlin is safe."

"Arthur, please, listen to me: your father has posted four guards on your door so that you cannot leave. There is no way to reach Merlin, especially not in your condition. Please, lie down."

Gritting his teeth, he stood up and promptly swayed straight into Gaius. The physician helped him back to bed with the minimum of fuss and returned to dressing his head wound.

Arthur hated being helpless.

"You have to help me, Gaius. We have to free Merlin."

Gaius closed his eyes, looking older and wearier than Arthur remembered. "I'm afraid it's not that simple. I've been getting some food and draughts to him, but your father is…if I am imprisoned, I don't think Merlin will last another day. I'm sorry, Arthur."

He closed his eyes and struggled to control his anger.

"Then, I will find a way.

~

There had to be a way out of this room!

He tore aside the curtain and contemplated the window. However, a view befitting a prince also came with a drop to rival a cliff side – he was still unsteady on his feet, and he would not survive the fall.

His father's guards had removed every conceivable weapon from the room. He wondered if he could break the chair, but the guards had swords and he could only hold them off for so long.

There had to be something!

The door opened and a maid crept in with a tray in her hand. "Dinner, Sire."

"I don't want dinner!" He knocked the tray out of her hands, sending the food flying across the room. She turned and fled, and he struggled to control himself.

He had to think.

_Food_

It was so simple, and it seemed to be his only weapon. He would refuse to eat until Merlin was released.

Content in his plan, he ignored the servants who cleaned up the mess and left his new tray untouched. If his father wanted to keep his heir, he would have to listen.

And then Arthur would see Merlin.

~

"How long do you think you can continue this?"

The ceiling was fascinating, really. He'd spent a lot of time looking at it recently – it turned out that head injuries and starvation didn't mix well.

"I order you to speak!"

He'd never refused one of his father's orders before. The power of it was intoxicating. Was this how Merlin felt when he refused to bow?

"This is not how a knight conducts himself. Consider yourself stripped of your station."

The accolade bothered him little – he knew truly what a knight was, and it had nothing to do with his father. His father had taken Merlin from him. He hadn't been this angry for a long time.

"Arthur…don't throw everything away for this boy."

This was a new tactic and it unsettled him. The concern and fear in his father's voice almost persuaded him to turn, but he thought of Merlin and his heart hardened.

"I can't lose you, Arthur."

"Then you know what you have to do," he said calmly, eyes never leaving the ceiling.

The door closed.

~

"Arthur, please – you have to eat something."

Morgana's steadying hand on his shoulder allowed him to sit up and he sipped at the water gratefully.

"Why can't I hear Merlin?" he muttered, pushing aside the goblet and struggling to think.

"Hear him? Arthur, he's down in the…cells, remember?"

"I know that," he snapped. "But I could hear him, before. And now it's gone."

"You're not well. I can the cook to make some broth, Uther would never know-"

"No," he said firmly. "I'm doing this for Merlin."

"Arthur, you have to think of yourself too. What would Merlin say if he saw you like this?"

He didn't want to think about that. Merlin would probably call him an idiot and tell him that this wasn't worth his life. Merlin knew nothing about it and was clearly the idiot in this relationship.

And Arthur would be telling him so, as soon as he could get out of bed.

"Someone has to stand up for him," Arthur said defiantly.

"Well, it won't be you, will it?" Morgana said tartly, but her eyes were wide and concerned and Arthur couldn't be angry with her.

"Morgana, I have to do this. I can't just let my father kill him. What kind of prince would that make me? What kind of…lover?"

She sighed and ruffled his hair. "I know. But I worry for you."

"We're both going to be fine," he said resolutely. "That I can promise you."

~

It was all so unbearably hot. Why had Merlin stoked the fire in summer? He was so incompetent. He should get another servant before the tournament began.

Wait, he'd won the tournament, hadn't he? There had been snakes. Where was Merlin?

Something soft and wet brushed his forehead, but it was too brief and he moaned at the loss of contact.

"Arthur? Can you hear me?"

"Gwen?" he rasped, confused. What was going on?

"You're very sick, Arthur. Gaius thinks you've caught something and your body is…well, it's too weak to fight it. You need to eat something."

"Merlin?" he whispered. Gwen sighed.

"Asking after you. I couldn't tell him you were like this."

"Good. Don't worry him."

Gwen was saying something about mushrooms but his ears weren't working and he was very sleepy.

He'd listen in a minute.

~

So hot.

_"A day or two at most, Sire. I'm sorry."_

Where was Merlin?

_"Uther! You have to see reason! He'd sacrificed everything for him, but your cold dead heart won't give way!"_

He couldn't move, couldn't speak. What was going on?

_"I'm sorry, Arthur. I had to tell him. He needs to know…how ill you are."_

Everything was hazy, but there was a light.

_'Arthur, it's me. Please, don't do anything stupid. You have to hold on.'_

He drifted away from Death, and it was cooler here.

_"The fever's breaking. Quickly – tell Merlin!"_

He was almost home.

~

"Your highness?"

Arthur opened his eyes and saw a guard peering over him.

"What do you want?" he said irritably.

The guard looked oddly relieved. "I have orders to take you to the dungeon, Sire."

"On what charge?" he growled, forcing himself to the edge of the bed.

Confusion crossed the man's face. "No charge, Sire. I'm taking you to the sorcerer, King's orders."

The cloud lifted from his mind and he smiled. "Fetch my clothes – hurry."

He was going to see Merlin. He was going to save him.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _A faithful and good servant is a real godsend; but truly 't is a rare bird in the land_ \- Martin Luther

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made the fatal mistake of telling [](http://openskies.livejournal.com/profile)[**openskies**](http://openskies.livejournal.com/) that I was being harassed by a plot bunny. She then made me write on pain of capslock. ;) But give her lots of praise, because she also made my stunning banner!

  
From the shadows, he watched.

The sorcerer hung limp in his chains, physically and mentally exhausted. They had questioned him and they had gained nothing – he claimed natural magic, an inherent degenerate character that explained so much. If he had practiced the dark art since birth, he would certainly possess the power to bewitch Arthur.

He watched Arthur's approach, barely upright between two guards – his heart filled with anger and fear and guilt, but he did not go to him. The young prince's face twisted in horror and he broke free of the guards, stumbling forward towards the warlock.

"Merlin?" he whispered. "I'm here."

There was pain in Arthur's voice, thick with unshed tears, and he struggled to suppress his fury. How had this thing corrupted his son so completely?

Though he was frail and swaying, Arthur wrapped his arms around the sorcerer's waist and lifted him, relieving the weight on his shoulders. The boy moaned then, and his dark eyes opened.

"Arthur," he said, "what are you doing here?"

"Rescuing you, idiot," Arthur replied, weary and breathless but determined to hold him.

"Leave me, Arthur."

"I won't," he said, and his voice was iron and he stood firm, even as his weakened body threatened to collapse.

Uther could not watch anymore. He signalled to the guards and left the dungeons.

~

"I want to thank you."

"Save it. I didn't do it for him."

Gaius, though uninvited, took his customary seat and Uther pretended it wasn't a great liberty. He wanted to hear what he had to say, even though he would not ask.

"He hasn't cast a spell on him, you know. You can always tell. The enchanted lover walks as if in a dream, fawns on the caster, and is in all acts unusual. That cannot be said of Arthur."

He didn't want to believe that. Because the alternative…

"You cannot be sure," he said, and cursed the treacherous quaver of doubt in his voice.

"It is not I that needs to be, sire."

Only a few days ago he had been certain. Yet they had chained up the warlock with those cursed shackles and still Arthur had persisted in his delusions – perhaps, though, the spell only needed to be cast once.

A small voice within him said he was making excuses, that he knew the truth and only needed to open his eyes. Always, her voice would haunt him.

Love alone was a terrible curse.

~

It was not becoming of a king to lurk in shadows. And yet this he had to see for himself.

"I'm fine, Arthur. Stop fussing."

His son was gaunt and feeble, yet he was straightening the covers of his royal bed over the warlock. The boy sighed. "Arthur, if you don't lie down, I will tell Gaius."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Fine, fine." He picked up a bowl of soup and crawled over the bed, slipping under the covers and slowly sipping his meal. The sorcerer watched him.

"You shouldn't have done that, you know."

"What - saved you life?" Arthur shrugged. "It's becoming a habit."

"Arthur, look at me."

A gauze-bound hand touched Arthur's cheek and Uther held his breath. He would see the spell being cast, he would have proof-

Arthur pushed him away.

"I'm not going to apologise for you being alive!"

"You sacrificed too much, Arthur!"

"My life wouldn't have been enough! Damn it, Merlin, can't you see that?"

He saw, and he knew.

The boy's hand fell away, as if bitten. There was shock in his eyes, and fear. But his words were angry, his bruised face contorting in rage.

"Don't you dare, Arthur. My life will never be worth yours – promise me you won't do it again."

Arthur was always haughty and proud. Like his father. "I can't promise that."

Merlin surprised them both by sitting up and grabbing Arthur's hands between his gauze mittens; the bowl fell to the floor and smashed. "You have to! It's your destiny!"

Arthur looked alarmed. "Merlin, you're not well. You need to rest."

"Promise me!" he said, coughing now, bright red blood spattered on the blankets.

Uther had never seen his son look so terrified. But he had seen that expression before – twenty-five years ago. From the mirror.

"Gaius! GAIUS!"

The old man came running, producing tinctures and water and reassurance. "He'll be fine, Arthur. He has reopened a wound in his mouth – it's nothing serious, I promise you." Arthur flinched, and only they three knew why.

They settled Merlin back to bed and Gaius gave Arthur another bowl of soup; the prince made a face but drank it anyway. Then, he curled himself around Merlin with care and rested his head on Merlin's shoulder.

"Am I forgiven then?" he whispered. Merlin sighed.

"You know you are."

"Good."

He waited until they fell asleep and then returned to his chambers.

~

"You wanted to speak with me?"

Uther gestured for her to take a seat and poured her some mead. She was prepared for a fight but he was strangely genial today.

"Tell me what you know about…Arthur and Merlin."

She laughed – it was a spiteful sound with no mirth. "You already see what you want to see. What difference will my words make?"

"Perhaps…I am willing to be persuaded."

Morgana regarded him carefully. "Have you spoken to Arthur?"

"He will not see me."

"I'm hardly surprised. You tried to kill his…servant."

Uther sighed impatiently. "Do not play games, Morgana. We both know the boy is…more than that."

She gestured expansively. "Then why ask for my counsel at all?"

He closed his eyes, gripping the goblet tightly. "I am willing to be wrong."

"Arthur loves him. A real and deep love, with no…magic or malice. And Merlin loves him too. You cannot change destiny."

He looked at her, eyes pleading for her, at least, to understand. "And I cannot change the law."

Morgana's smile faded. "That is your choice. Yet I would not cast aside so lightly the man protecting your son. One day, you will be gone and Merlin will be all that stands between him and Death. Do you really want him to face the world alone?"

"It is what every king must bear."

"That was your fate. Would you really wish that on him?"

"Camelot needs an heir." He was clinging to excuses and he knew it. One couldn't hide from the truth.

"And she will have one. Arthur isn't an idiot, despite appearances. He knows his duty, and he knows his heart. You have to trust him."

Uther sighed. "When did you become so wise?"

Morgana gently laid a hand over his. "I had a good teacher."

~

When he summoned them to court, he wasn't sure what to expect. Yet they both appeared, Arthur dressed as a nobleman (though his clothes hung oddly from his too-thin frame) and Merlin as a servant, supported by two wooden crutches. They were ill at ease, Arthur standing protectively in front of Merlin even as a glint of gold lingered in the boy's eyes.

"I hereby relieve you from your banishment." Arthur turned to Merlin in shock, and the boy's face was split by a grin. "However, sorcery remains forbidden in Camelot – I must have your solemn oath that you will not use any magic and, to protect my citizens, I must require you to wear these."

The bracelets were presented on a cushion, the woven metal fashioned from the bewitched shackles of the dungeons. Arthur was angry but Merlin had placed a hand on his arm.

"I swear it, your highness, and I accept the…restraints."

One of the guards moved to fasten them but Arthur knocked away his hand. "I'll do it."

"Arthur, you-"

"Be quiet, Merlin."

Slowly, he weighed the bracelet in his hand before releasing the catch and slipping the metal over his wrist. It locked into place smartly and Arthur looked faintly sick, but he picked up its twin and fitted it in the same way.

Merlin lowered his hands back to the crutches, face impassive. Uther met his eyes and saw only…pity. He shivered.

"Then…return to your business," he said quickly, pretending not to watch them leave as he wondered if he'd lost his son forever.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _A faithful and good servant is a real godsend; but truly 't is a rare bird in the land_ \- Martin Luther

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made the fatal mistake of telling [](http://openskies.livejournal.com/profile)[**openskies**](http://openskies.livejournal.com/) that I was being harassed by a plot bunny. She then made me write on pain of capslock. ;) But give her lots of praise, because she also made my stunning banner!

  
The door opened and Gaius rushed forward. 'Well?"

"Pardoned under oath," Merlin said quietly; Arthur grinned as he half-carried his exhausted lover to the couch.

"And what does that mean?"

"New jewellery."

Merlin held out his wrist for inspection and Gaius frowned at the bracelet. "This is a magical alloy."

"Same as the chains," Merlin said sleepily, leaning back against Arthur.

"To prevent the use of magic," Arthur said grimly, but his fingers settled in Merlin's hair and Gaius could see he was at peace.

"I made some stew," Gaius held up his hand, "and you will eat it all before you leave."

"Of course," Arthur said politely, but all his attention was on Merlin. Gaius sighed.

"You need to take care of yourself too, Arthur. You're no good to Merlin under the earth."

"Sometimes l wonder what good l am at all,'' Arthur said wistfully.

"Shut up, idiot," Merlin said, not even opening his eyes.

"And eat your stew."

Arthur smiled and took the bowl. "I am the prince, you know."

"You're a royal prat." Merlin smiled. "Admit it - you'd be useless without me."

"I'd be useless without you," Arthur said with devastating sincerity, and Merlin turned his face into Arthur's chest. Gaius watched them with pride.

"So I can expect you at work tomorrow?"

Merlin laughed and made a half-hearted attempt to hit him. Gaius sighed and went back to his medicines, subtly observing them out of the corner of his eye. Arthur was relaxed and happy, with some colour returning to his cheeks. Merlin, however…

He couldn't quite put his finger on it but the boy looked under strain. Still, he was recovering from serious injuries – he couldn't be expected to run around all day without some ill effects.

Gaius returned to his pestle, trying to shake the feeling of unease and failing. The boys' laughter drifted to his ears and he smiled – at least they were happy, and together. For now, that was enough.

~

She watched him fumble with the linen for a third time before she finally approached him.

"Oh, hi Merlin – want a hand?"

"Gwen…yeah, that would be great."

He smiled sheepishly and she took the lion's share of the sheets. They walked slowly towards Arthur's rooms and Merlin was unusually quiet. Gwen rushed to fill the silence.

"So, how are you settling back into work? It's not been the same without you. Quiet, for one thing!"

Merlin smiled again, but didn't say anything. Gwen fell silent and knocked on Arthur's door.

There was no answer, so she set down the sheets and left Merlin to sort them, hurrying back towards Morgana's rooms. She met her lady in the reception room, where she was rearranging the flowers; Morgana looked up as she rushed in and motioned for her to close the door.

"How is he?"

"The same! He won't say anything and…well, I'm not sure he's even talking to Arthur!"

Morgana nodded thoughtfully. "I've heard similar through the knights. Do you think…?" She held up her wrist and shook it. Gwen grimaced.

"What else could it be? Nothing else has changed, not really. Gaius says most of the wounds are healed, and he doesn't even need the crutches anymore."

"It has only been a week. Perhaps we should give him more time."

Gwen sat down and wrung her hands in her lap. "Have you spoken to Arthur?"

Morgana sighed. "I'm not sure that he wants to hear it. Things are getting back to normal – he's starting to train again, Uther's actually acknowledging him, and he doesn't want to admit Merlin's…not quite right."

"But if Arthur won't listen, who will help him?"

"We'll just have to watch and wait. Even though it hurts, Gwen, it's for the best."

She wasn't sure either of them truly believed that but she returned to her duties, thinking about Merlin and wondering how to reach Arthur.

~

"You don't have to do that, you know."

Merlin smiled tightly as he cleared away the plates. "It's my job."

Arthur stilled his hands and finished moving them himself. "Not when we're alone, Merlin. You know that."

He touched Merlin's waist, but he twisted away. "Not…now, Arthur."

Struggling to hide the hurt, Arthur sat on the edge of his bed and watched Merlin tidy up around the room. He hadn't wanted to take Merlin back as his manservant, but at least this way he maintained his status in the royal household. Yet, for once, Merlin was actually doing his job – and without complaint. It unnerved him.

Morgana had tried to talk to him about Merlin, but he hadn't wanted to hear it. They were supposed to be getting better – it was all meant to be solved now. He had rescued him, yet he wasn't quite the Merlin he remembered. Something was missing.

"Merlin? Can I talk to you?"

He looked almost frightened, but he sat down anyway, folding his hands carefully in his lap. "What do you need?"

"I need you," Arthur said quietly, and Merlin looked away.

"Arthur, don't."

"Things…haven't been the same between us, Merlin. I need an honest answer from you."

Merlin looked hurt, but it was a muted expression, filtered through exhaustion and a need for control. Arthur recognised it all too well.

"You know you can trust me."

"And I'm not doubting that. Please, Merlin, talk to me."

He stood up and walked away. "I have chores, Arthur."

So, that settled it: something was very wrong, and he'd been a fool to ignore it this long.

"Merlin, I'm not finished."

He whipped round as if stung. "Sire?"

"Merlin, don't do that," he whispered.

"Don't do what, sire?"

It wasn't even petulant or irritated – just cold and blank. Carefully neutral words, as if Merlin were actually his manservant and not his one light in the whole damn world.

"You may go," he said heavily, wondering what he'd done wrong, and what he could do to make it right.

~

Gaius closed the door to Merlin's room and took a seat at the table. Sleeping again, and in the middle of the day! And Arthur hadn't been by in almost three days, sending notes with summons and tasks instead of seeking Merlin out in person.

Yet Merlin denied that they'd argued, said everything was fine, but he was just going to lie down. He was healing, but not as fast as Gaius would have liked, and his appetite was reduced. Gaius often heard him pacing at night, back and forth for hours at a time – he wondered what it meant.

"Gaius? Have you seen Merlin?"

Gaius put a finger to his lips and beckoned Gwen towards the table. She took a seat and inclined her head towards the bedroom; Gaius nodded solemnly.

"We're worried, Gaius," she said softly. "He's not himself."

He leaned forward. "What have you noticed?"

She shook her head. "I can't quite describe it. He's just so quiet! And I think he had an argument with Arthur."

"Arthur says he refused to talk to him." They turned to the doorway, where Morgana stood, worrying at her lip. "Arthur's miserable, but Merlin…"

"There's just nothing!" Gwen said. "It's almost as if…he's not quite feeling things right."

"Misery can put a terrible burden on the soul," Gaius said, thoughtfully. "Some Saint John's Wort may rouse him."

"I fear it may go deeper than that." Morgana took a seat at the table. "My dreams of late…they are dark and fragmented, with no distinct shapes. But I see Merlin…and I feel pain. He is grieving."

"We will give him a few more days," Gaius said firmly, unwilling to contemplate the dreams. If they were truly prophecies, then they were in far greater trouble than he'd thought.

"And what then, Gaius?" Gwen said, glancing over to Merlin's room with shining eyes.

"Then we make a plan," he said.

~

For the twenty-ninth time, he considered turning back. And once more he reminded himself why he was doing this and all that he had to gain. It had been surprisingly easy to find this place but he realised that wasn't the difficult task – that would be talking to it.

"Dragon?" he called, tentatively.

Suddenly, the cave was alive with sound and a massive scaled creature descended onto the ridge in front of him. He stared at it for a moment and struggled not to take a step back – he was Arthur Pendragon! He was not afraid!

"Ah, finally, you have come to me." The dragon looked strangely pleased, and then it frowned. "But where is Merlin?"

"Wait – you know Merlin?" There were a lot of things they would be discussing later.

The dragon laughed. "You are brave, young Pendragon, to come alone."

"I need your help."

"You, young Pendragon? Whilst your father bans the practice of magic in his kingdom?" The dragon was mocking him. He didn't have time for this.

"Merlin is fading in front of me and I need someone to help me. Am I wasting my breath with you, dragon?"

The dragon regarded him speculatively. "The young warlock breathes magic – it is in his lifeblood, as it is in mine. But then you knew that."

His father's words flooded into his mind and he swallowed hard. "What do I have to do?"

"You know your duty, Arthur. Your destiny lies together, but your coin is becoming tarnished. Only you can restore Merlin and only together can you unite Albion."

Before he'd had time to blink, the dragon was up and away, leaving him confused and alone. A tarnished coin? Uniting Albion?

"I don't understand," he whispered, and he heard the dragon's laughter echo into nothing.

~

His head was spinning as he climbed the stairs to Arthur's chambers. He had to hold it together – he knew it would get better if he could just concentrate and plough on.

He paused outside the door and laid his hands flat on the wood. Solid. Every day, it was a little easier. Every day, he felt a little more real.

"Merlin?"

Arthur's hands settled on his shoulders and he let out a shaky sigh. "No, Arthur, please-"

"I'm not letting go." Arthur forced him through the door and sat him on the edge of the bed, grasping his hands firmly in his own. He was warm, and Merlin felt himself centre for the first time in days.

"Merlin, we can't carry on like this."

"Like what?" he tried, but Arthur was filled with a new fire and wasn't backing down.

"You have to talk to me, Merlin. I can't help you if you don't talk to me."

He heard someone laughing hysterically and realised it was him. "You can't help! I'm lost, Arthur – I don't know where I am. The whole world feels _wrong_ and I don't see a way out!"

"We can fix this." Arthur's hands were on his cheeks, grounding him, and he realised he'd been crying. He slumped forward and Arthur enveloped him, rocking him slowly as he brought himself under control.

"No, we can't. I'm not Merlin anymore. I'm…no one."

"Merlin, I know about your father."

He tensed and drew back, looking at Arthur in bewilderment. "I never knew my father."

Arthur's mouth twisted. "My father thinks he was an incubus. He was trying to warn me."

An incubus. His mother had never said anything about his father – an incubus? Then, maybe Uther was right; perhaps the magic in his blood was evil after all.

"And I don't care."

The light touch of lips brought reality home in vivid colours, his world exploding to life and he fought to hold the contact. Yet, he had to let go, and everything fell back to grey, except the stunning blue of Arthur's eyes.

"Arthur, what-"

"I know what to do, Merlin," Arthur said, bringing him to his feet and steadying him. "We're going to make this right."

And Merlin believed him.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _A faithful and good servant is a real godsend; but truly 't is a rare bird in the land_ \- Martin Luther

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made the fatal mistake of telling [](http://openskies.livejournal.com/profile)[**openskies**](http://openskies.livejournal.com/) that I was being harassed by a plot bunny. She then made me write on pain of capslock. ;) But give her lots of praise, because she also made my stunning banner!

  
He left Merlin with Gwen and hurried to his father's rooms. He didn't care about the hour – it needed to be done now.

"Father?"

The king smiled as he entered and beckoned him to sit beside him, nudging the plate of sweetmeats towards him. "Eat – you'll need your strength for the hunt tomorrow."

Arthur shook his head and took a deep breath. "I need to talk to you about something important, father."

His smile faded slightly. "Merlin."

"How did you-"

"Gaius said the boy was…ill. I will replace him with another servant until he recovers."

Arthur held up a hand. "I don't want to replace him, father. I want to make him well."

The king's eyes narrowed. "If this involves another foolish quest-"

"It doesn't. But it may be…difficult to explain."

"I'm listening."

Arthur stood up and started to pace. "Merlin's magic is part of him. Without it, he will die."

The goblet hit the table, spilling the mead over the edge. "Magic brings only death! Whatever lies he-"

"You only have to see him to know it's the truth! I can't let him die, father."

The king turned his back on him. "And what do you expect me to do? Magic is banned – I cannot change the law for one man. I will not let this kingdom fall for your…friend."

Arthur closed his eyes. "I know. That's why I'm asking to leave."

He felt his shoulder gripped hard. "Camelot needs an heir."

"It's not forever," he said softly. "And I will return when you need me."

"He could go alone. There is no need for you to accompany him."

Arthur met his father's eyes, saw the fear lurking there and looked away. "I…can't. I-"

"Don't." He stepped away and returned to his mead. "Those words are not for me to hear. Let me keep my…ignorance."

Arthur bowed his head. He had no other weapon, nothing else to offer in explanation. "Father, please."

"Go."

He turned in shock, but his father had already looked away. "I…don't know what to say."

"Tell me…you understand."

Arthur's breath caught in his throat. "I do."

"Good." His father smiled and Arthur realised this was an embrace. But it wasn't enough and Arthur moved into his father's space, drawing him close without words. After a moment's tension, he relaxed and, for the first time in years, they shared this simple act of affection.

Finally, they parted and Arthur quickly looked away – his weakness always showed in his treacherous eyes. "We will be staying in Garthmadrun. It's only three days ride."

"The Mercia feast is next month."

"I will be there," he promised, knowing what his father was really saying: you are my heir, always.

"There will be celebration – to wish you well on your diplomatic mission."

"And we shall attend. Without Merlin's restraints."

Another moment of tension. "As you wish."

"Thank you." Arthur bowed slightly before leaving the king alone, his thoughts turning and twisting.

They were free.

~

Arthur had told him to wait, to hold on, but with every passing minute, he felt it all slipping away. The black and white and grey was winning – he couldn't remember Arthur's eyes.

"I have to go."

"Merlin, wait!"

Down and away and _fast_! If he kept moving, they couldn't catch him – Death couldn't catch him. He was a warlock, powerful and great and…not yet, not yet, shut up Destiny, SHUT UP!

He would tell Destiny, and he would win, and live, and see Arthur's eyes again. Please, just once – the blue. He couldn't remember blue.

They didn't see him – they could never see him – and he ran with the fire in his hand, blazing ahead in dancing white, stumbling and falling and kneeling at the feet of Destiny.

"Help me…please…help me."

"It is not I you seek, young warlock. The Pendragon is coming."

"I can't die! He needs me – I have to protect him! Don't let me die!"

"It is not in my power, Merlin. But do not despair!"

"I can't…I can't…I can't…"

"Merlin!"

Hands took hold of his arms and he fought them, trying to get away. He had to survive – Arthur would die without him! "Don't let me die, please…"

"I need to take these off. Merlin, keep still!"

Warmth flooded his right hand and the world stopped spinning.

"Better. Now the other."

He opened his eyes to colour and light. And there was the dragon, smiling down on him, as he rested in the arms of his prince.

"It's back," he murmured, and Arthur sighed, holding him tightly.

"What part of 'stay with Gwen' did you not understand?"

"It was fading. I was going to…lose it."

He sat up and composed himself, taking a deep breath before holding out his hands to Arthur. "Okay – I'm ready."

Arthur frowned. "Ready?"

"Put them back on."

He grinned then, wild and idiotic. "No – it's over! We're…we're leaving."

"Leaving? You can't just leave! You're the prince!"

"My father let me go," he said softly, taking Merlin's hands in his own and touching their heads together. "We are going to our village in Garthmadrun, where we will build a hut and heal and bake pies."

"Bake pies?" Merlin said, considerably bemused.

Arthur sat up then, indignant. "I could bake a pie!"

Merlin laughed. "I don't doubt it!"

They stood together and faced the dragon, who had been watching them with interest. "This is only a temporary respite, young ones. Soon you must return to the battle against the many that would prevent your Destiny."

"But not now?" Merlin said hopefully. The dragon smiled.

"Not now. Rest together a while and I will see you upon your return. Fare well."

Arthur led him out of the caves, a hand resting on his shoulder. "We're leaving tomorrow. My father wants to hold a banquet."

"A banquet? For us? No one's ever thrown a banquet for me."

His prince's laughter echoed in the tunnel. "No, I don't suppose they have."

Gwen met them at the door. "Where did you go? We were worried!"

"Can't keep themselves out of trouble for five minutes!" Morgana took Merlin by the shoulders and looked him over. "No scrapes? No bruises?"

"I'm not completely incompetent," Arthur huffed, dragging Merlin to a seat by the window. The sun was beginning to rise and warmed him, calling to the magic inside him, writing poetry on his skin and in his eyes and on his tongue.

"There you are! Where have you been, Merlin?"

He turned to Gaius, knowing the sun was alive in his eyes and not caring who saw. "With the dragon."

Arthur looked between them. "My father has…allowed us to leave Camelot. I will return a few times a year, but Merlin will be safe in Garthmadrun."

"And the bracelets are gone," he said, waving his bare wrists around. Gaius looked horrified and Gwen covered her mouth; Morgana looked away. Arthur took hold of his arms at the elbow and stared at his wrists – there were black marks seared into his skin, a woven chain of burned flesh. He had been branded.

"It doesn't hurt," he said quietly, but Gaius was already applying balm and Gwen had a roll of bandage in her hands. Arthur still hadn't let go of his arms.

"When do you leave?" Morgana said, hovering at Gwen's shoulder.

"Father wishes to hold a feast to see us off," Arthur said with a roll of his eyes.

"It's what any father would do, Arthur. Don't begrudge him a proper farewell."

"You'll be there, won't you, Gaius?" Merlin said, this information suddenly very important to him. It might be years before he saw Gaius again – and why hadn't that sunk in last time?

"Of course! And you won't escape that easily, young man – we will be coming to visit you!"

"Garthmadrun is only three days ride," Morgana said off-handedly and Gwen grinned.

He wasn't losing them. Any of them.

"I think Merlin needs some rest," Arthur said, his voice thick, and Merlin knew he was trying to orchestrate their escape before they both lost their dignity. He was shepherded back to his room and tucked into bed with more vigour than was strictly necessary.

"I'll attend you tonight," he muttered sleepily, and Arthur laughed as he kissed his forehead.

"No, Merlin, you'll _accompany_ me tonight. You were a lousy manservant anyway."

"_Your_ manservant," he said defiantly and Arthur kissed his lips.

"Yes, mine. Always. Get some rest."

Merlin fell asleep grinning.

~

"He's late."

Arthur looked around the hall one more time, scowling. Morgana smiled and passed him a fresh goblet. "He won't be long."

"He's late to his own feast, Morgana! There's idiocy and then there's just…"

He was dressed in blue, the dark jacket perfectly matching his eyes. The breeches were tight, fitted, and Arthur felt his mouth go dry.

"Quite a catch, isn't he?"

"Shut up, Morgana."

She laughed, as he crossed the hall and took hold of Merlin's arm. He grinned. "Hello."

"You're late," he said, but instead of the stern reprimand he was going for, a pathetically gentle tone escaped his lips.

"But worth it?" Merlin inquired innocently, spreading his arms and turning. Damn, those breeches were fitted.

"Yes," he said, with a long vacant pause. "Quickly – we have to find you someone to escort to dinner."

His father had spared no expense in this feast and Arthur regretted his still-diminished appetite. Merlin was supervising his plate, making sure he received the best cuts and largest helpings, and Morgana made sure his goblet remained full.

Still, he survived the clucking on both sides and then it was time for his father's speech. They stood solemnly and he felt Merlin's hand snag the hem of his jacket; he smiled at him and leaned close: "Don't worry."

"It is with great regret that I send my son as a diplomatic envoy to Garthmadrun, to be parted from the court for…many months. However, with the support of his…closest advisors, I know he will bring great honour to the land of Camelot. A toast to Arthur!"

Arthur nodded to his father and then looked away – he did not want to see the sorrow in his father's eyes. They had parted well the night before, and he could not bear it again.

He took the first dance with Morgana, and saw Merlin attempt to do something coordinated with Gwen across the room. He just couldn't keep his eyes off him – the blue was startling, an assault on the senses, and he needed to…touch.

As the music ended, he excused himself quickly, striding over to Merlin and dragging him out onto the balcony. "Do you do these things to drive me mad, Merlin?"

He had the nerve to grin. "So, you like it then? Gwen said it was a-"

Arthur kissed him, seizing the jacket to pull Merlin close to him, hands crushing the rich velvet without care. They were going away tomorrow, far from this castle and its trappings. Far from prying eyes.

He pulled away, breathless, enjoying the flush on Merlin's cheeks and his kiss-swollen lips. "You look positively wanton."

"I think I love you."

And then the words were out there, floating between them like a melody on the air, and Arthur knew they were his and Merlin's and _theirs_.

"I love you," he said, and Merlin's eyes shone with the sun, and everything was right.

~

Gwen had packed provisions and she placed them carefully in the saddlebags. Gaius watched her work, as Morgana straightened Arthur's jacket and told him to be responsible. Merlin smiled at the exchange before lifting Gwen off her feet and twirling her round as they both laughed.

His boys were leaving again, but this time with joy. It still caused his heart to ache.

"Gaius."

Arthur shook his hand warmly and then embraced him. "I'll take care of him," he said.

And then he hugged Merlin, and felt his heart break a little, but he would not cry. The boys needed him to be strong – they needed to stand alone.

"I will be back for Samhain and the Mercia feast."

"And we shall visit two weeks after."

It was not so very long. Time for the boys to find their feet and then he could see them, as young men. As partners.

He watched them mount the horses and, with an old man's foolishness, allowed himself a tear as they cantered into the dawn.


	14. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _A faithful and good servant is a real godsend; but truly 't is a rare bird in the land_ \- Martin Luther

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made the fatal mistake of telling [](http://openskies.livejournal.com/profile)[**openskies**](http://openskies.livejournal.com/) that I was being harassed by a plot bunny. She then made me write on pain of capslock. ;) But give her lots of praise, because she also made my stunning banner!

  
He stared at the ceiling and grinned. Their ceiling.

Merlin was tucked into his side, half-sprawled over his chest and drooling. Arthur placed a kiss on his hair and returned his gaze to the roof. It had taken hours, even with the subtle bursts of magic, but he was proud of it. He had made something – no, _they_ had made something, _together_.

And now he had to leave it.

"You know you have to go," Merlin mumbled sleepily and Arthur smiled.

"I could…forget."

Merlin laughed against his bare shoulder. "And have your father's guards in our village? I don't think so."

_Our village_. Arthur grinned again and kissed Merlin soundly. "Hmm…go to Camelot and play prince, or stay here with you?"

Merlin rolled his eyes. "It's only two weeks, Arthur. And then you'll be back to your stews and potages and hogging the oven at all hours."

"Merlin, my bread is the envy of the village."

"Only because all the young wives think they're in with a chance."

Arthur put his hand to his chin thoughtfully. "Beatrice is pretty…"

Merlin hit him with the pillow. Arthur took vengeance by pinning him to the mattress and kissing him – this inevitably led to a conclusive victory and so was a sound campaign strategy.

There was a knock at the door.

"Don't answer it," Arthur growled, but Merlin was already up and pulling on his leggings.

"I'll be right back," he said and opened the door. "Thomas. What are you doing here?"

Arthur glared at the small boy from his position on the bed, but Thomas was used to him by now. "Merlin, the pig is sick."

"Merlin…" Arthur said warningly, but he was already putting on his cloak and fetching his medicine box.

"An hour at most. Promise."

Arthur waved him away as Merlin hurried off to his physician duties. At least that would keep them in vegetables another week – he really needed to work on the garden.

After, of course, he'd adopted the guise of a prince for two weeks and tried to remember that nobles did not talk about the wheat harvest and the fine art of cheese.

With a long-suffering sigh, Arthur pulled on his clothes and started to pack.

~

"What about milk?"

"Adam brought it yesterday."

"And the pie?"

"Emma brought it straight from the oven, with the flatbread. I'll be fine."

Arthur gave him a frustrated look and finished sweeping under the table. "We barely know these people."

"They like me. I mean, what's not to like?"

"Anything that leaves your mouth, really." Arthur's voice was light, but Merlin could see the concern in his eyes.

"Do you have the presents?"

Arthur carefully placed the three bundles in his saddlebag. "I do now."

"And you won't go by the stream?"

"Through the valley, due south. I have ridden to Camelot before, you know."

"Well, we both know you're lost without me," Merlin said jokingly, and rolled his eyes at Arthur's serious expression. "It's a few days!"

"Maybe I just…well…I might…miss you." The prince's cheeks burned red, and Merlin sighed.

"You'll have Morgana, and Gwen and Gaius. I'll have Mr Jones' pregnant heifer and Margery's bunions."

Arthur's face lit up. "More jam?"

Merlin rolled his eyes. "I'll save you some. Now, get a move on, or you won't reach the tree house before nightfall."

"Going, going!" Arthur gathered his saddlebags and stepped out into the square.

A couple of the children were admiring his horse and Arthur lifted Thomas and swung him up into the saddle, where he giggled and grabbed the reins. Persephone suffered the whole thing with quiet dignity and Merlin fed her an apple while Arthur finished removing children from the vicinity.

Once mounted, Arthur strapped his pack behind him and looked down at Merlin with big, blue eyes. "Be careful."

"Aren't I meant to say that to you?"

Arthur smiled. "Don't do anything…stupid."

"So, if an arrogant prince stumbles into danger-"

"Let the prat die," Arthur said, with an affectionate grin. Merlin quickly kissed his hand and offered a shy smile.

"I'll miss you too."

Arthur laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Keep out of trouble. If an upstart knight challenges you to a duel-"

"'Think it through', I know." Arthur grinned and forced Persephone to rear up, casting a striking figure in the morning light. "Don't wait up!"

He cantered out of the square in a flurry of dust. Merlin rolled his eyes.

"Prat," he muttered and went inside.


End file.
